In the Darkness the Tears Fall
by Nightress5
Summary: Sometimes pain runs deeper than any wound that can be left behind. Lance comes to know this when a mission goes awry and he ends up as a both a bargaining chip and a hostage to be used to Lotor's whims. But as Lance spends time as a hostage, enduring countless assaults on his mind, body and spirit; he slowly becomes aware that Lotor's far different than he seems.
1. I Too Saw God Through the Mud

A rain of gunfire came his way. Laser beams ricocheted off of the wall he was pressed against. Metal boots clacked against the cold metal of the ship's floor as the robots advanced forward. The purple colored laser beams continued to pour out of the doorway as Lance raised his bayard up to his eyes, the cold metal of the ship's wall burned into his back despite the layer of armor protecting his body against any form of foreign material.

The bayard grasped in his hand glowed a bright blue as it morphed into his signature blaster. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes and tipped his head backward as his left hand curled around the trigger. Quickly turning so that his stomach was pressed against the wall of the Galra ship, he took aim and squeezed the trigger. A thick, blue beam of light fired out of the barrel of his blaster and pinned a robot soldier in the middle of its chest causing it to tip backward as its feet flailed through the air. A barrage of gunfire had Lance yelping as he quickly spun on his heels, pressing his back against the wall once more as the robotic tap, tap of feet pounded against the cold steel floor of the ship.

The communicator built into his helmet garbled to life; Shiro's distorted voice cut through the feed and and embedded itself straight into his eardrum. " Lance...fall back...too dangerous…"

Lance lifted a hand to his helmet and lightly banged on it, a scowl fixed on his face as he prayed that that would somehow make this piece of alien tech work properly. If it worked back on Earth when his Abuelita listened to her old school radio, it should work here in space. The garbled feed blaring into his ear became clear with a firmer smack against the side of his helmet.

"Lance, did you hear me? Fall back; get back to your lion. There's too many of these Galra robots swarming the ship."

Lance chewed on the inside of his cheek as he aimed around the corner of the wall and squeezed the trigger again. A blue beam hit a robot in its shoulder, causing it to stumble backward slightly, but left it remaining on its feet as it squeezed the trigger of its own gun just a little harder. Cursing a little underneath his breath, Lance hid behind the wall once more as a sizzling sound burned close to his ear; his eyes tracked a single purple beam as it burned into the wall that was at most five feet in front of him. A single black hole was the only evidence that proved a laser beam had pierced it; the area around the hole was as black as coal, the metal slightly curved inward as smoke curled off of it. Shifting his head slightly, Lance could see a mirrored hole poking out of the wall near him—just an inch away from his head.

"That's going to be a little hard, Shiro," Lance managed to grumble out, "I'm a little pinned down right now—" Angling the blaster around the wall, he took aim and squeezed. A blue bolt shot out of the barrel of his blaster, ricocheting off the wall and into the head of a Galra robot. It shuddered for a few brief seconds as its circuitry managed to fry all at once before it dropped to the floor, no longer a programed soldier, but a scrapheap of metal. "—And I don't think I'll be moving any time soon."

"Allura." Shiro's steady voice, even in the midst of combat, was a comfort to hear. Lance could hear on the other end of the transmission a grunt from Shiro, the crackle of energy and metal slicing apart as he cut his way through the horde of robots that were no doubt pinning him down on his end.

"I'm on it," Allura's voice crackled in Lance's ear; the slight tremor of frustration underlying her words was evident. "Lance, just hang on. I'll be there in a dobosh ."

There was a crackling noise—silence filled the space of Lance's helmet, save for the sound of robotic footsteps and the volley of gunfire that was raining down in his direction. Aiming at the Galra, he fired off a couple of shots. Each one hitting his target, he slightly paled as the robots kept pressing forward. A never ending stream of them that no matter how many he put down, there were still at least twenty or more that were crowding his way to the hangers. He prayed that Allura would show up soon.

"Lance!"

Turning his head, Lance could see Allura rushing down the hall from his right, a small group of robots—no more than six—chasing after her.

It seemed his prayers were answered. Quickly moving to the middle of the hallway, Lance dropped down on his left knee as he held his blaster aloft in his hands. Time felt like it was slowing down as he gave Allura a small nod; she gave one back as she clutched her bayard tightly in her right hand, shifting most of her weight to the soles of her feet, and as she slightly picked up her pace, Allura tucked her elbows against her side. Pivoting forward, she jumped over Lance's back, tucking in her knees to her chest as she did so, before carrying her weight over to her right knee as she landed on it. Her bayard glowing and transforming into a blue whip, she raised her right hand, bringing the whip over her head before throwing her hand forward. The whip extended, wrapping around the ankle of a soldier; grunting, she lifted the whip up with her strength and sent the robot that she had ensnared in it flying into the side of its companion beside it.

Lance kept his gaze focused as he shot at the robots in front of him. Taking them down one by one, he looked over his shoulder at Allura's back at the sound of her yelling, "Lance, come on!"

Shooting up from his position, Lance quickly spun on his heels as Allura shot up and raced into the hallway he had been trying to clear moments earlier. There were still a good number of Galra robots left in it—with a quick glance there had to be no more than fifteen of them—Allura ran toward the wall on her left, she jumped and kicked herself off it, using the momentum and the weight of her own body to sail over the robots until she rolled on the ground behind them. Quickly popping up she lashed out with her whip and wrapped the ankles of each Galra up with it.

Letting out a guttural roar, she smashed them into the wall with an incredible force. The crunch and high pitched twisting of metal and frying of circuitry was like music to both of their ears. Swiping her thumb against the bottom of her bayard, the whip retracted, leaving behind a pile of crushed robots that were piled up against the wall.

Lance shot Allura a playful smile as they continued running toward the hangar. "Have I ever told you that you are one of my most favorite people ever?"

Rolling her eyes, Allura shot back with a quip of her own. "You can tell me that when we get out of here safe and sound."

Making a quick turn around a corner and then another, the impressive forms of the blue and red lion quickly came into view as the two of them rushed into the hanger. A quick pang of suspicion ate at Lance's gut after as a quick surveillance of the empty Galra hanger—not a single fighter jet was to be seen. Even when they had arrived, Lance had felt that there was just something off about the entire set up but had shoved those feelings aside. There wasn't even a single Galra robot or soldier that was stationed in the hanger either; one would think that it would make sense to have at least a couple here, that way their escape wouldn't be as easy. But something...something kept bugging him.

Quickly turning at the sound of pounding footsteps behind him, Lance lifted his blaster and aimed at the robots who were crowding around the entrance of the hanger, a single one not daring to step forth. He fired off a couple of shots as he walked backward; Allura raced to the side of her own Lion.

"Lance!" Allura shouted out his name; he could hear the metallic whir of the mouth of the red lion slowly descending. It's mouth parting to reveal the ramp that lead up to the cockpit.

Turning on his heels, Lance could taste freedom on his tongue, smell Hunk's cooking, and hear whatever topic it was that caught Pidge's interest for the day rattling in his ear. But his eyes didn't land on the imposing form of his own lion but the smooth face of what appeared to be a Galra woman—though Lance really couldn't tell. The last time he mistook an alien inhabitant for the wrong gender on a planet that the paladins had been protecting from a Galra fleet, it had ended with a slap to his face and Hunk and Pidge rolling on the ground in laughter as the alien had spewed curses in his face. Coran had silently appeared behind him as he tossed an arm around Lance's shoulder and spewed on about his youthful years where he had once—like Lance—mistook a rather handsome Solanlian from the planet Bellogal for a woman when they, in fact, had been a man. Coran's brows had pinched together as he fondly twirled the end of his moustache as he mused about the fact that anyone would have made such a mistake after all; the Solanlian's were a dessert people where the only way to tell a man or a woman apart was by the length of their tusks. An easy mistake.

The alien in front of Lance however was no Solanlian; she was tall, taller than Shiro or Hunk by easily a foot. She wore the typical Galra armor, except hers had a hood that was drawn up and slightly obscured her face; her face was several shades of blue with a single splotch of purple that started from her forehead and came down to the top of her mouth. Where there should have been eyes there were none. The only indication that what Lance was looking at was a face was the jagged shape of her mouth that eerily reminded him of Zarkon's own and a pair of slits just a few inches above it that he presumed were nostrils.

Reacting quickly he pointed his gun at her chest as her long tail swished behind her. A black cat seemingly appeared from thin air as it hopped upon her shoulder, its blue tipped ears slightly twitching as she held her arm outward in Lance's direction.

Curling his index finger around the trigger to fire off a shot into her chest, Lance slowly squeezed as his body went stiff all at once. His index finger shook against the trigger as his entire body followed suit with the sudden spasm; a cold sweat broke out on the surface of his skin as he felt himself being pulled apart mentally as a thousand voices whispering in his mind.

Allura, who had been quickly working her way up the ramp of her own lion, turned around to see Lance's entire body quiver as a Galra female with a cat upon her shoulder stood in front of him, her arm outstretched toward his face. The hold Lance had on his blaster slackened as the weapon fell from his grip and onto the floor. She watched as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his knees buckling as he dropped to the floor. She watched as his helmet smacked against the solid metal with a sickening sound that immediately made her mouth go dry and left a bitter taste upon her tongue.

"Lance!" The bayard in her hand was already glowing as she quickly turned around, fury boiling in her veins as she stared down at Lance's still body. Was he dead? Or just unconscious? She couldn't tell if he was even breathing.

Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as Shiro's voice rang in her ears.

"Allura? What's going on? Why aren't you and Lance out of that ship already?"

Her throat burned as she attempted to run down the hatch of her lion; she had barely lifted a foot when she felt an intense pressure. Whipping her head to the left, she could see the hatch door of the Galra ship opening; the loud sound created by the different atmospheric pressures within the ship and outside in space was deafening as she screamed. She felt herself floating as the differences in pressure sucked her out into space. The blue lion groaned as its claws dug into the floor of the ship, but despite its best efforts, the lion was pulled into space with her.

"Lance!" Her throat felt raw and scratchy as she floated in the ether. Her jetpack glowed as she straightened out and aimed toward the open hatch of the ship. Spluttering to life, she shot forward as anything that wasn't tied down in the ship was sucked out into space. A robot flew over her head as she kicked herself off of a large crate full of whatever it was that the ship carried. She could see the red lion slowly being pulled toward the open hatch, its claws scraping against the floor, sending sparks flying as it dug in. "Lance!" Allura screamed again. Her voice was small against the echoes of space as she aimed for the hatch door; she could see that the Galra woman had bent down and reached out toward Lance's neck with a clawed hand. "LANCE!" Allura's voice was raw as she watched the hatch of the ship snap shut, separating her from Lance and the red lion.

"Allura, what happened?" Shiro's voice rang in her ears as her throat contracted with a tight pressure. She could feel something burning on her cheeks and feel a wetness that was slowly fogging up her helmet.

"They got Lance," she quickly responded, focusing her attention on the hangar doors. Allura screamed as multiple purple beams were shot at in her direction.

Glancing up, she could see two small Galra ships aiming at her as they raced toward her position. Two separate green and yellow beams smashed into the sides of the ships, causing them to spin as one of the beams hit the ship dead center and the other clipped the second ship's wing. The two ships crashed into one another, creating a large, fiery explosion in the distance.

The green and yellow lion came into view as the black lion flew above Allura's head, dancing and maneuvering through a bunch of laser beams that were being shot at it from a cluster of Galra ships. Allura could sense more were arriving as she heard Shiro give an order to retreat.

"Allura, get back to your lion and fall back. That goes for everyone else as well."

"But—" Allura began to protest, her eyes flickering back to the shut hatch door.

"—We'll worry about Lance later," Shiro intercepted her, "right now our biggest concern is getting out of here, before more Galra ships come."

Reluctantly glancing back at the hanger and toward the blue lion, Allura turned, her jetpack glowing as she flew away from the ship and instead toward the blue lion; her stomach twisted in tiny little knots with each foot she put between her and the ship.

Her thoughts turned to Lance as the blue lion opened her maw to allow Allura in. As she floated into the blue lion's mouth, she gave one final glance backward at the ship as the lion slowly shut its jaw, delivering Allura into the darkness of its confines.

* * *

Slow measured steps clapped against the metal of the ship as Acxa stared down at the blue paladin of Voltron. His body was lying still against the ship's floor. One would have assumed he was dead, but from the way Narti leaned over his body, her hand outstretched and hovering over his head, she knew better than to assume the worst case.

Zethrid and Ezor came to a stop behind her. Looking down at the blue paladin and glancing over his weapon, Acxa turned her head at the sound of another pair of footsteps coming to a stop just slightly beside her.

"Sir." Acxa stared at Lotor's face. His eyes were slightly narrowed, his chin slightly pointed toward the ground as his eyes raked over the blue paladin's back. "What should we do?"

Lotor's lips parted slightly as his eyes flickered up toward the red lion. A red energy shield surrounded it, protecting it from any form of attack or intruder that attempted to breach it.

"Tell team Voltron—" Lotor spun on his heels as he placed his hands behind his back and clasped them together. His boots clacked against the metal floor as he slowly walked away. His long hair swayed slightly behind his back as his blue eyes darkened; a thousand calculated moves burned in the forefront of his mind; a cunning grin stretched across his face. "—that we just won."

* * *

 **A/N: I'm crossposting this from my Ao3 account. This is also my first Lance x Lotor fic on this site, so let me know what you think. But please no comments of "Klance is better than this ship!" or anything that bashes Lancelot, or I will call you out for it.**


	2. Whatever You Desire

Coldness seeped into his skin, a type of coldness that seared the surface of his cheek. Lance jerked awake against the icy steel of the floor, his eyes fluttering open to a cell that was awash in a soft, purple light. Moving his head slightly, Lance's right cheek stayed pressed against the floor as he peered towards the thick metal door in front of him. Undoubtedly, it was sealed shut with a webwork of purple lines that connected the door to the generator that powered the ship.

Shoulders aching, Lance tried to move his arms, but the faint, odd humming of energy and a pull at his wrists told him he wasn't going to be moving his arms anytime soon. Feeling the pressure of the cuffs on his wrists, Lance used the weight of his frame to push himself into an upright position; he sat firmly on the cell floor, his legs splayed out in an odd position that made him feel as equally uncomfortable as being handcuffed.

A pale pallor swept over his face as he realized a distinct...foreignness to his entire body that he had never noticed before. His mind felt like a pieces of his brain had been ripped out and replaced in the wrong spots as he attempted to shake the away the fog clouding his mind, but failed. His bayard was gone; the familiar weight of the weapon on his personage or in his hand was nowhere to be felt.

There was a faint pounding in his temples and a peculiarity in the vast fields of his mind that he couldn't shake. His waist felt naked without the presence of his bayard strapped to it and undoubtedly it was now in the hands of his captors. He let out a puffed grunt of annoyance as he drew his legs in slightly, sitting in a position that would remind one of a siren perched atop of a rock pelted by splashes of seawater that would erode the surface. He shifted his right leg so that his foot was placed firmly against the ground and used the weight of it to push himself upward into a standing position.

Now giving himself a better view of the room, he glanced around, taking in the fairly cramped conditions of the dimly lit room when the door to his cell slid open with a hiss. He whipped his head around to face the two Galra robots who marched toward him with methodical steps.

A protest burned in his throat as one reached out toward his arm; it's cold metal fingers wrapped around his armor covered bicep, roughly dragging him out of the cell with the other robot following behind them. They lead him through the winding corridors, past rows of identical cells and up some flights of stairs. Lance quietly took it all in, attempting to map out every single little detail he could catch as they passed by and filed it away for later.

The Galra robots dragged him toward a door that was slightly bigger than all the other ones he had seen before. It slid apart to reveal a large room that looked like a combination of a main hub and a throne room. A dais was built in the center of the room, and on top of it was a throne in which none other than Lotor himself sat.

There were four women who surrounded Lotor's throne.

On of of them was a woman that looked to be about Keith's height with blue skin and hair that seemed to be a shade of bluish-purple that framed her face. She stood right beside Lotor. Another, who was easily bulkier and heavier compared to Hunk, stood at the bottom of the dais, arms crossed in front of her chest and a disgusted sneer upon her face as Lance was dragged into the room. There was a woman who was lazily draped across one of the dais steps, her chin resting in the palm of her hands as she smiled curiously at him; her skin was splotched with red-orange hues. And finally, Lance's eyes settled on the woman he had seen as he and Allura were attempting to escape from the ship. She stared at Lance, the type of stare that sent shivers up his skin despite her lack of eyes. The cat that he had seen as well was perched in her lap, its tail swishing through the air as she lazily scratched behind its head.

Lance's mouth soured as his thoughts turned to Allura, and his nostrils flared as he took in a deep, shuddering breath. What had happened to her? He could have sworn he heard her shouting his name before he had collapsed. A nervous weight settled in his gut as his thoughts turned to the possibility of her having been captured as well.

It made him shiver until he heard her voice calling out his name.

"Lance!"

Looking up, Lance finally took note of the projection screen that floated above the communication panel in the room. A group of Galra guards were clustered around the panel, and on the screen was Allura's face, her brows pinched with worry and there was a tiredness to her eyes that Lance had never seen before. Coran was right beside her, his mouth set into a grim determined line with his hands clasped behind his back.

Allura breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes softening as her gaze settled upon Lance's face. Her gaze flickered to Lotor and that look of relief that washed over her was quickly replaced by a cold fury. Her gaze hardened and her words had a tinge of steel to them.

"Don't you dare lay a single finger on him, Lotor ." She spat out his name like something dirty and foreign had touched her tongue and lips.

From his languid position on his throne, a smirk stretched across Lotor's lips. His left cheek was resting against his fist, he lethargically tore his gaze away from his lap where he had been examining Lance's bayard to Allura's face projected on the screen.

Lance noticed one of the women—the tallest one—uncrossed her arms and took a threatening step forward; an irritated growl bubbled in her throat, her eyes darkened and the muscles in her body tensed up. She looked ready to punch her way through the screen as if that would soothe her irritation against Allura.

"Zethrid," Lotor called out the woman's name, his eyes flickering in her direction.

A muscle in Zethrid's jaw ticked as she took a step backward to where she had been originally standing before, crossing her arms over her chest once more. She bared her teeth in Allura's direction; if the princess had noticed, she made no comment of it or to Lotor.

"Princess." Lotor's gaze finally settled on Allura's face; it was impassive, a block of unblemished marble compared to an oil painting that was slightly weathered by age. "I won't lay a finger on him, but I can't say the same for my personnel."

As if to demonstrate his point, Lotor glanced over toward the robot whose hand was still wrapped around his bicep. He waved lazily in its direction. Lance gasped out in pain as the robot's grip on his bicep tightened; he could feel the tremor of the muscle as it cried out under the pressure that forced him down onto his knees. He grit his teeth as Allura's blue eyes widened in shock, before quickly darkening, the color of turbulent waters beneath the grey clouds of a storm.

Pidge's concerned voice crackled in the background. " What's going on? Is Lance alright? "

Sucking in a breath, Allura hissed out, "What do you want?"

Breathing deeply, Lotor lifted his head away from his fist. His eyes clouded over as he pressed the tips of his fingers together, and drumming them against one another, he raked his gaze over Allura's face. "Princess, don't play dumb. You know what I want. The real question is whether you will give me what I asked for?"

Fury colored Allura's face, her lips pursed as she prepared to levy a response in Lotor's direction.

The prince, however, rolled his hand in her direction. "Please save your breath, Princess, as much as I would adore hearing your riveting speech about how you'll never hand over the rest of your lions, that won't work on me." There was a slight raise of his brow with a hushed silence falling over Allura. Lotor kept his eyes focused upon her face, a defiant air settled into the room; he waited for her to say something more. Anything. Even a feeble protest that would cause her voice to take on that shrill, haughty tone of a princess who wasn't used to being disrespected in such a manner. But Lotor chose to have the last word instead. "I'll give you time to reconsider. But do think carefully about my offer, Princess Allura."

Lotor waved to a guard to cut the communication feed, and Lance watched as Allura's and Coran's face disappeared from the holographic projection.

Grabbing the bayard that he had placed down upon his lap, Lotor turned and dropped the weapon in Axca's hands before walking down the dais and towards the captive paladin.

Lance tensed up in his captors' hold as Lotor inched toward him. Just a few inches were put between them as Lotor came to a stop. He peered down at him, his hands clasped behind his back as the Galra prince's eyes swept over his face; he was studying him, trying to gauge more information about Lance in the span of a few minutes than Lance knew about the prince.

A smirk stretched across the prince's lips, an attempt to be friendly that came off as calculating and cold.

"I hope you've been enjoying your time here."

Clucking his tongue and cocking his head at the same time, Lance narrowed his eyes. "It's been really charming. I really enjoyed waking up without my weapon, my hands cuffed behind my back, and Terminator 1 and 2 here—" Lance jerked his chin at the robots flanking him for emphasis "—treating me like I'm a bag of garbage they're about to throw out."

A flicker of surprise burned in Lotor's eyes, the corners of his lips twitched even as his face remained impassive. "Well I'll assure you that the remainder of your stay here will be a pleasant one. But only if you give me something that I want."

"Oh?" Lance's brows scrunched up together. "Like finding a nice airlock to shoot you out of? Because I can do—"

"Zethrid," Lotor barked out as he slightly turned his head in the direction of the the tall woman.

Zethrid took a few quick, hulking strides in Lance's direction, her footsteps causing the metal beneath his feet to quiver, sending shockwaves up his legs. He didn't have much time to react as Zethrid cracked her knuckles in her hands.

A sharp pain bloomed on the right side of his face as his neck swiveled sharply to his left; Lance could feel his lip split apart under the pressure of Zethrid's fist. His eyes were wide with shock as Zethrid pulled back her fist, a few droplets of Lance's blood coating her knuckle. She loomed over him, her fist poised and ready to give him another punch when Lotor held up his hand. "That's enough, Zethrid."

She gave Lotor a sharp nod of her head, before taking a step back from the two of them.

Lance's entire body was quaking as he shakily jutted his tongue between his lips and swiped at the smear of blood that coated his bottom lip from the bleeding cut he now sported. Lifting his head to expose his bright red cheek underneath the glow of the interior lights, Lance glared at Lotor. His cheek throbbed with pain but that did little to diminish the anger that blazed in his eyes.

"Why would I give you anything that you want?" He spat, slightly wincing as he did so, his cut lip felt like it had split apart even more.

Lotor breathed deeply as he crouched down to Lance's position, staring into the paladin's eyes. The prince lifted a hand and reached behind Lance's head to grab a fistful of his hair; tugging harshly, the prince forced Lance's head back, exposing the wide expanse of his neck. "Why? Because you're an insignificant pawn in this entire game; you're no more than a means to an end in order for me to achieve Voltron and in turn get what my father desires."

"That's an odd choice of words, don't you think?" Lance smirked as something dark flickered across Lotor's face. It seemed he'd hit the bullseye. "What?" Lance blinked. "Did I hit a little too close to home?"

The smirk on Lance's face disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. The ghostly sensation of fingers prodding at his mind caused bile to rapidly bubble in the recesses of his throat. That faint sensation of a thousand voices whispering pressed down upon his mind. His face contorted in a building unease as those fingers sorted through his mind, looking for something, anything; he didn't know what.

Flashes of memories burned behind his eyes. The elation he had felt the first time he had piloted Blue, when he and the other paladins had stumbled upon Allura and Coran, when they had found the Blade of Ma—

Lance ripped himself away from the memory, a struggle that lead to a cold sweat breaking out across the surface of his skin. He forced himself to focus on other memories like the taste of guava lingering on his tongue; a sweet taste that pleasantly coated the back of his tongue and throat. Or the smell of salt water tickling at his nose as the cry of birds above his head competed with the noise of the water splashing against the sand. If he tilted his head slightly, he could feel the faint warmth of the sun lapping against the exposed expanses of his skin as he dug his toes into the heated sand beneath his feet.

His entire body sagged in his captors' grip as those phantom fingers pulled away from his mind. Lotor turned his head in Narti's direction as the mute and blind Galra hybrid gave him a single shake of her head.

Turning his attention back to Lance—sweat shone upon the surface of his skin, giving him a fevered and exhausted appearance—Lotor's eyes narrowed, lips stretched into an annoyed scowl. "It seemed I misjudged you, Paladin." Lotor released his hold on Lance's head, causing him to slump forward, his chin touching his chest. "Take him back to his cell."

Lance was jerked upwards; his feet, having turned to the consistency of jelly, rendered him incapable of walking for the moment, forcing the robotic guard to drag him out of the room by his arm. They dragged him through the same winding corridors they had walked through earlier until they reached his cell. The doors slid apart to reveal the dark, cramped room that was awash with that purple, alien coloration that all the Galra ships had. Lance barely let out a sound as the guard tossed him into the room. He landed on his side; his injured cheek smashed against the floor, causing him to let out a pained groan as the door slid shut behind him, plunging him into darkness.

* * *

Lance was doubled over, his back pressed against the side of the hard metal slab that served as a bed. He rubbed absentmindedly at his left wrist; a guard had come into the cell and removed the cuffs but had quickly left right after.

His stomach rumbled, reminding Lance that it had been hours since he had last eaten. He chuckled softly to himself, wondering what time it was. His internal clock told him that it had to be dinner time at this point. Hunk would've been in the castle's kitchen at this hour, whipping up something edible for his friends from the castle's food preserves. He supposed Pidge would be worried about him as he was the closest thing she had to a brother right now. He knew she'd probably tuck herself away, either in a corner of the castle or in her room, huddled over something that didn't need to be fixed or tinkered with, but she'd do it anyway so no one would see the whirlwind of emotions on her face.

Shiro would probably be in his room or glancing up at Black, trying to collect his thoughts and emotions, trying to keep everything together and keep ahold his grasp of the strong image of a leader that he presented to everyone, despite the fact that inside he was probably as torn up as Allura about him being held captive. If anything, Shiro would be drudging up buried and repressed memories all over again and that just made Lance's mouth sour. Thinking about his friends caused an overwhelming sense of sadness to wash over him.

Allura wouldn't be faring any better; she would hide herself away from the others, especially from Coran so that she could allow her emotions to bubble forth to the surface and spill out. She would be worried, anxious, and most of all blame herself for everything that had happened to him.

Coran would probably have locked himself away in the Com room, trying to get in contact with the members of the Blade of Marmora, in order to inform Keith and the Galra members of what had become of him. Keith, especially Keith, would be livid, seeking to put the blame on anything that he could in order to quench and mask the fact that he was upset.

The door to his cell slid open, allowing a block of light from the interior of the ship to illuminate his cell. Standing in the doorway was Lotor and his female companion that had been standing beside his throne in what had felt like mere minutes ago. She carried a tray in her hands, and from where Lance was sitting he could smell the rich aromas of food; his stomach growled once more as he quickly sunk his teeth into his lower lip, slightly wincing as the coppery taste of the blood welled onto the tip of his tongue.

Both of them stepped into the cramped cell, the door remaining open behind them. Lance observed, just in case the robots guarding his cell needed to rush in to restrain him if he so much as breathed in a way that dissatisfied Lotor.

The woman placed the tray down on the ground beside Lance's feet, gave him a disapproving look before Lotor dismissed her out of the cell, leaving him and Lance alone in there together.

Lance glanced down at the tray with disgust; there was a bowl of what appeared to be soup, the odd green colored liquid swirling around the bowl as a plume of steam rose up from it. There was a plate piled with a log of brown striped meat and a small orange loaf that was bespeckled with bright purple dots. His stomach growled again reminding him that he was hungry, but he wasn't about to eat food offered to him by the enemy.

"It isn't poisoned. If I wanted you dead I could have ordered it by now." Proving his point, Lotor bent down and grabbed the orange loaf from off the tray, and tearing a small piece of it off, he popped the tiny morsel into his mouth and chewed slowly. Staring Lance down, he replaced the loaf back onto the tray and swallowed, a few seconds passed as he simply raised a brow at the paladin as if to say: ' see, I didn't die .'

Lance still warily eyed the food, causing Lotor to give a small displeased shrug of his shoulders. "Suit yourself."

"What do you want?" Scowling at the prince, a flicker of unease burned in Lance's eyes as Lotor crouched down in front of him, putting the two of them on an equal level.

"Better yet, Paladin, what is it that you want?"

Lance sucked in a breath, the cold air sending a quiver of pain to his cheek. Suspicion worked its way through his veins, but yet, Lotor continued, "I can give you anything you want. Wealth, fame, glory, power. Anything that you desire and I'll give it to you."

"What do you want?"

Lotor clucked his tongue, similar to a mother chastising their forgetful child. "I wonder if all the paladins of Voltron have a tendency to ask such trivial questions. You know what it is I want."

Refusing to verbally respond, Lance did the next best thing. He puckered up his lips and leaned slightly forward as a wad of spittle flew from his lips and landed on Lotor's left cheek. The prince barely blinked as he stood up and whipped Lance's spit away; glaring down at him, Lotor's eyes were cold as his irritation rolled off of his body in waves. "Reconsider my offer, paladin . I can give you whatever it is you want; whatever your heart desires." Lotor paused, a quick thump of a heartbeat. "Such as the comforts of your home planet?"

The feeling of warm sand beneath his feet, the cry of birds flapping above his head, the smell of the salt from the ocean felt astoundingly real.

"Or your family?"

Lance swallowed, forcing the feelings that were bubbling up in his chest down into the recesses of where they had come from. He could feel the faint warmth of his mother's fingers treading through his hair or the scent of steak searing in a pan after sitting in marinade all night made of garlic, lime juice, salt, and pepper as his father made his world famous Bistec de palomilla . His little nephew and niece would have been running around the yard with their black lab, their shrill, childish voices screaming out for him to come play with them.

A pang of longing stabbed him in the gut. Even as he stared Lotor down, he knew what option he was willing to choose.

"What makes you think I would sell my teammates out for that? I'm certain you wouldn't do the same for yours."

His eyes darkening, Lotor sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a few brief moments to hide the steely look they had taken on. When Lotor opened them again, there was a dangerous tinge to his words that hadn't been there before. "You know nothing about me." With a pivot of his heels, Lotor turned and strode out of the cell. The doors slid shut, plunging Lance back into the darkness.


	3. Fall Down Seven Times

A/N: The title of this chapter comes from the Japanese phrase：七転び八起き (nana korobi ya oki) which means to fall down seven times, but get up eight and is a beautiful way of saying "no matter how many times you fail at something, try again." I thought it was a beautiful homage to Shiro's Japanese heritage. This chapter's a little short, since it mostly focuses on Allura and Shiro overcoming their shared pain, but yea...also try and spot the comic reference! (The first one who spots it...wins a yet to be determined prize that may or may not be my unconditional love).

* * *

The doors to the lounge slid open, revealing to Shiro the back of Allura's head and the sound of sniffling. She stood at the only window the lounge had to offer, beyond her a tiny satellite planet rotated slightly in the distance; splotches of blue, green and brown made up the coloration of the planet and he had heard Coran earlier referred to it as Wreath. A small planet he had remarked, that had a whole slew of humanoid-like people with horns gracing their head; a kind and friendly race that was naturally embroiled in a conflict with both its neighboring planet and the biggest one in this current galaxy—Landfall.

They were only passing through the galaxy, a measure to keep Lotor off their trail; a measure that none of the other paladins had wanted to bring up the secondary nature of—they needed to move to mask their position in case Lance gave away their coordinates...or if Lotor tortured it out of him first.

Shiro had shuddered at the thought; his own memories of being held captive in Galra control and the pain his body had to endure under his captivity had felt like a ghostly hand that had dragged its fingers across the surface of his skin. The ghostly smell of blood and death had nearly made him wretch, but a few quick, deep breaths had him calmed down.

Allura's head was bent forward, the back of her hands quickly rubbing away the tears that leaked from her eyes. The sound of her mouse squeaking caused Shiro to look down at his feet; they raced around him before piling up on each other's shoulder, the smallest of the mice—Chulatt—the mouse with blue fur and blue eyes shook a paw at Shiro before quickly shaking its head. A warning for Shiro to leave Allura alone for the time being. But Allura lifted her head away from her hands, turned her head and gazed in Shiro's direction.

An embarrassed blush settled itself upon Shiro's cheeks as he took a step back. Allura shot up from her seat, keeping her eyes downcast to the floor, she slightly shook her head. "Please, Shiro, I implore you to stay."

Swallowing thickly, Shiro paused for a few seconds, cleared his throat and began to speak. "Are you okay?"

Allura nodded despite using a single finger to brush away the stray tears that were falling down her cheeks. "Yes, I'm quite fine. This is just—" a lie attempted to tunnel it's way past her lips, but failed to even touch the air.

A frown pulled at Shiro's lips, causing him to cross his arms over his chest. "Allura...if you're not, then I can just leave and give you some time and space." That only caused Allura to shake her head further as more tears glistened on her slightly pink tinged cheeks.

"No." The word came out in a hushed whisper. "I don't think I could handle being alone right now." The tears spilled freely from the corner of her eyes now as a choked sob spilled out into the air from between her lips, Shiro stood as still as a sentry as he watched the Princess break down into tears.

Shiro glanced at her back nervously before his gaze flickered down to the mice who had disassembled from their tower and now each had their paws pressed against their hips as Chulatt squeaked furiously at Shiro. Shooting them a quick apologetic look, Shiro walked forward until he reached Allura's back. Hesitatingly, he reached out with his non-Galra hand but stopped himself shy of touching her shoulder. Allura's shoulders shook with each sob that racked its way through her body. Shiro glanced away from Allura, choosing to look out of the large window that took up an entire wall of the lounge; on any other day when they had landed on a planet, the window would have provided them with a view of the natural landscape. But usually, when Shiro was in here by himself, he would find himself gazing out towards the wide expanse of space, the twinkling stars and the colorful exterior of the planets the castle would fly by. He never got tired of looking out that window, but today...he found no excitement from it.

He found no joy in looking out at space when Lance wasn't by their side and he could tell everyone was hurting by Lance's missing presence. He swallowed thickly, his fingers curling toward his palm when he relaxed them and placed his hand upon Allura's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Shiro let out a sharp surprised noise as Allura turned, pressing her balled up fists against his chest and burying her face against his chest. Shiro stiffened, surprised by the Princess' reaction. He could feel wetness seeping into the fabric of his shirt from her tears, he hesitated for a few brief seconds, before pressing her closer to his chest, her head tucked underneath his chin as he slowly wrapped his arms around her body.

Just then the door to the lounge slid open, Pidge walked in. Her eyes widened in shock at the sight of Allura and Shiro pressed together; Allura pushed herself out of Shiro's grasp as his arms fell to his sides. A tinge of pink worked its way onto both of their cheeks as embarrassment flooded their veins. Holding up her hands in mid-air, Pidge shook her head. "Pretend I was never here." Turning around, Pidge left the room, the doors sliding shut behind her.

Wiping the stray tears away from her eyes, Allura chuckled to herself. "How do you make it look so easy?" Shiro frowned at her words, his brows pinching together as he curiously gazed at her causing her to shake her head and clarify what she had meant. "I mean, leading others—how do you make it look so easy?"

Shiro sighed, crossing his arms over his chest once more he turned his gaze toward the window. There was something firm about the way he set his jaw and the darkened fire smoldering in his eyes. "I don't—I mean, leading isn't easy. There are times I thought I failed as a leader to the other paladins, times I wondered if it would be better for someone else to take up the mantle instead and lead Voltron."

"Someone like Keith?"

Shiro nodded. "Sometimes, I feel like I don't know what I'm doing and feel like I'm aiming blindly in the dark."

A forlorn smile pulled at the edges of Allura's lips. "Sometimes I think that I failed at being both a paladin and a leader."

Frowning Shiro shook his head and reached out to grip Allura's shoulder again. "No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did!" Allura shouted, slapping away Shiro's hand. Fresh tears were falling down her face. "If I had just tried a little harder—Lance wouldn't have been being held as a hostage by Lotor."

Shocked by her words, Shiro shook his head, a firm yet gentle tone laced his words. "You're not at fault for that Allura."

"Don't you see, Shiro?" She sniffled, the tears falling down her cheeks like the hot-boiling rocks that fell down from the skies of Altea. "Everything is my fault; if I had just—" Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as Shiro gripped her wrist in his hand and pulled her toward his chest in a hug.

"You can't blame yourself for that, Allura." His breath tickled the exterior of her ear. "None of us. None of us could have seen what would have happened to Lance and prevented it. We can't always go around preventing everything before it happens, we're not capable of doing things like that."

"But I am—" Allura attempted to protest feebly causing a bitter smile to stretch across Shiro's lips.

"No you're not. None of us are to blame." Sighing, Shiro smiles bitterly as a phrase he often heard his mother tell him gently emerged from the recesses of his memories. "You know, back on Earth there was something my mom would use to tell me a lot as a child."

Tilting her head backward so that she could get a good look at Shiro's face, Allura's brows raised in a curious and inquisitive glance. "What was it?"

Looking a little embarrassed, Shiro glanced away from Allura as the foreign words from his youth settled onto his tongue. " Nana korobi ya oki ." Shiro lifted his robotic hand to scratch at the back of his neck, his cheeks slightly pink at the rusty use of his native language.

Wrinkling her nose, a small smile replaced itself on Allura's lips. "I thought on Earth humans only speak English? Or that language Lance sometimes let's slip. I believe it's called, Spanish?"

A soft chuckle poked at the air as Shiro playfully shook his head. "On Earth some do, but there's a lot of languages and dialects there that make everyone unique."

Allura nodded her head, her curiosity now peaked about Earth's languages and dialects as Shiro called them, but she would file that fascination away for a later point and a better time. "The words you just spoke, what do they mean?"

Shiro frowned, scratching the back of his neck as he did so in an attempt to come up with a suitable English translation of the phrase. "Well, I suppose in English it would mean something like fall down seven times, stand up eight ." Allura nodded her head at the poetic phrase. "My parents are from a tiny archipelago on Earth called Japan, when we moved when I was just a kid, my mom would repeat this phrase to me whenever I got upset."

"Did it work?"

Shiro nodded. "It always did." Patting her on the back, Shiro pulled away from the embrace and began to walk out of the lounge.

"Shiro?" He turned at the sound of Allura calling out his name. A smile rested on her face. "Thank you. I really needed that."

Shiro nodded. "Allura, don't worry. We're going to get Lance back." And with that, Shiro turned and left the lounge, the soft hiss of the doors behind him let Allura knew that he had left as she turned to face the window.

As the castle slowly drifted past the planets inhabiting the galaxy she clasped her hands together and sent out a silent prayer to the universe. She hoped that they would get Lance back soon. Safe and sound. She repeated the prayer over and over until she truly believed it. Letting out a sigh of relief, Allura pulled her hands apart and pressed her palm flat against the glass.

Lance was going to come home soon, she was certain of that.


	4. Pattern

Fingers drummed against the arms of the throne as Lotor stared into the distance, his left cheek pressed against his fist as his thumb absentmindedly rubbed small circles into the sides of the Bayard that was resting upon his lap. His brows were pinched together, a look of intense concentration upon his face.

"Sir," Acxa was at his side, "what should we do with the paladin?"

Lotor didn't respond, his fingers continuing to drum against his seat. The princess' words still rang in his head. _Don't you dare lay a single finger on him_. Slowly rising out of his seat, he walked down the dias; slow, measured steps that conveyed no urgency of a man that knew the positions of every game piece on a board. "Zethrid. Narti. With me." The two women fell in line behind him. As the doors to the throne room slid apart, shadows flickered across Lotor's face, a juxtaposition to the light from the ship that too highlighted portions of his features. A cunning smirk stretched across his face. He would appease the princess' request...it all just depended on how long the paladin would be able to prevent himself from cracking.

* * *

Absentmindedly rubbing at his left wrist, the skin tender and bruised with the outline of the cuffs that had restrained him. Lance's stomach rumbled in protest as his gaze flickered away from the tray of food he had yet to touch. He couldn't bring himself to trust Lotor nor any other Galra on this ship, sure Lotor had attempted to prove to him that his food wasn't tampered with, but that still meant he wasn't going to take any chances to explore what sorts of drugs the Galra could cook up.

His stomach rumbled again, earning an annoyed grunt from Lance as he tipped his head back against the hard block of foreign material that made up the bed in his cell. His tongue darted out between his lips, licking at the cracked skin and the scar on his lip from where Zethrid had punched him. Closing his eyes in an attempt to ignore the pain in his stomach, a similar memory washed over him; of the evenings spent in his room at the Garrison when he would skip meals whenever his personal workload provided very little opportunities for him to swing by the cantina before the cooks wiped down the kitchen and went home for the night.

But unfortunately, the hunger clawing at his stomach didn't compare to then. Slowly opening his eyes, he wondered how long it had been since his capture? A few hours? A few days? He knew it couldn't have been more than at least two or three with everything that had happened. It didn't help that time felt so distorted with the lack of company around him and this constant fear that was burrowing its way into his mind about how he didn't know what to expect when the door to his cell slid apart again.

As if the universe was mocking him. The door slid apart, revealing Lotor along with two of his generals at his side—the one that he had called Zethrid and whom had punched Lance and the other who he was certain had freaky telekinetic powers—the three of them walked into the cell. The small box feeling far more cramped than when it was just Lance and Lotor stuck in the space together. At the sight of the three of them, his entire body tensed up, his fingers curling inward to his palms as he prepared to put up a fight.

Lotor's eyes narrowed at this subtle shift in his body, with a slight movement of his hand, he motioned for Zethrid and Narti to take a step back. They did.

"So, paladin. Have you made a decision yet?"

Clucking his tongue, Lance kept his gaze fixed on Lotor's generals. "Yea, I have. Got to say, I'm not very interested."

A quick smile flashed across Lotor's face. For a quick second, it seemed friendly; a smile that was shy, yet vulnerable. That notion was quickly wiped from Lance's mind as Lotor coldly stared at him, his eyes devoid of any emotion as his lips parted and he gave Zethrid an order. "Strap him to the bed."

Shouting in protest, Lance curled his hands into fists as Zethrid moved toward him. Zethrid reached out, grabbing Lance by the collar of his shirt she lifted him into the air. Lance swung at her, his fist feebly connecting with the side of her face. She barely flinched, just let out a bark of a laugh as she pinned him down onto the hard slab of a bed. Keeping him pinned there, Lance turned his head to the side as thick, black straps materialized out of the slab, wrapping around his upper torso, his waist, and legs. Lance's throat constricted as Narti began to take a step toward him.

"Get away from me!" He screamed. She stepped closer, her arm lifting and her clawed fingers pointed at Lance's forehead. "Get away from me!"

Entire body stiffening as she pressed a single finger against his skin, Lance gritted his teeth, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. He could feel her digging in around his mind, searching for answers that would possibly appease Lotor.

Closing his eyes, he forced himself to focus on positive memories. He could feel it, the warmth of his family surrounding him, his mother pressing her hand against the side of his head as she pulled him closer to her so that her lips were planted against his cheeks. His _abuelita_ was busy scolding his nephew and niece as with small hands they attempted to reach the plate full of buñuelos, the plate of syrup and powdered covered donut-like treats a temptation for them to eat compared to the other plates of food covering the table. The smell of roasted pork tickled Lance's nose as the twinkle of Christmas lights wrapped around the Christmas tree caught Lance's eyes. The pile of presents underneath it as equally as captivating as the tree itself. Lance's father cracked a joke about how the pig had to travel a long way in order to make it for Noche Buena.

Lotor stepped closer to the bed, his eyes gazing silently at Lance's face. The paladin's eyes were clenched closed, sweat dotting his face, his teeth grinding against one another. "Show me." He ordered Narti, who complied. Raising her other hand she laid it down on Lotor's shoulder, giving him a glimpse of the memories that Lance was experiencing.

The memory changed this time to the warm sands of a beach. The rays from the sun warm on Lance's skin as the cheerful shrieks of his niece and nephew reached his ears. Turning his face upward to the sun, a smile stretched across his face as the splashing of waves and the scent of salt water burrowed itself into his being.

A new memory. This time of Lance running through his front yard, the tall blades of grass that needed to be cut brushed against the hem of his jeans. Pounding up the porch steps and across the porch, he pushed open the front door as a grin stretched across his face.

"Mom!" The shout made his mother slightly jump.

His mother, startled at the loud noise, frowned at him as she propped the broom she was using to sweep the floor against her hip. Her lips parted, prepared to admonish her son for nearly breaking the door when she stopped, her eyes zeroing in on the folded piece of paper clutched in his hand.

"Is that—" She began, but her words were cut off by Lance's nod.

"I got in!" He shouted as his mother let out a squeal of joy and rushed at him. The broom clattered to the floor as he found himself being wrapped into a hug. Slightly taller than his mom, Lance buried his face into her shoulder, he could smell the scent of fried plantain wafting off her clothes mixed in with the rich smell of dirt from the garden.

"I love you." She whispered, her breath tickling his hair.

"I love you too."

Lance shook, bile rising in his throat as Lotor ordered Narti to stop. The Galra hybrid pulled her hands away from the both of them. The straps that covered Lance's body retracted into the bed, slightly shaking, Lance fixed his gaze on Lotor's face. The Galra prince clucked his tongue against his teeth. "We'll resume this tomorrow."

Swallowing, Lance said nothing as the three of them left his cell. The doors slid shut, plunging him back into the darkness. For the first time since Lance had left Earth, had left behind his family and everything he knew, he hiccuped as hot tears slipped out of the corners of his eyes. In the darkness Lance's entire body shook against the bed as he threw an arm over his eyes, the tears leaving hot trails on his cheeks as he allowed them to fall.

* * *

Silently, Lotor stared into the distance. His eyes unfocused as he cupped his chin in his hand. Having retired to his room, he welcomed the silence that the room provided compared to the rest of the ship where he was incapable of relaxing. Reclining on his bed in the darkness of his room, he closed his eyes as a myriad of shapes and forms danced behind his eyes. The shapes and forms melding into the shapes and people he had seen from the paladin's memories. Lotor's eyes snapped open, the scent of food that he had never once tasted before in his life nor knew the name for seemed to linger in his room. The scent was startlingly clear as if he himself had been sitting in that warm room, filled with an emotional warmth that was as foreign to him as Earth itself.

There was a subtle warmth in his chest, that transfigured itself into a burning heat in his chest that made him scowl in discomfort. The startlingly clear memory of the paladin being embraced by that woman gave him a sense of discomfort that he couldn't place any reasoning behind.

 _Mom._

That's word made him scowl as it rattled around in his brain after hearing the paladin refer to the woman in his memories by that term. Flopping onto his bed, he stared up at the darkened ceiling; a pain settled itself into his chest that left a black hole in his heart.

 _Mom._

Why did such a simple word hurt so much? Rolling onto his side, his eyes fell upon the pile of books that wetter stacked neatly upon a small, dark table near his bed. Even in the darkness, he knew the name of the books printed upon the spine of cured hide, the letters golden scrawls that had been written long ago in a planet that was looking gone.

The burning in his chest only intensified as Lotor took a shuddering breath, forcing himself to roll onto his back as he stamped down upon long-repressed memories that were threatening to claw to the surface of his mind.

Pushing himself upright, he reached out for the book that was on top of the pile. Its cover was worn with use beneath his fingers as he thumbed the spine, his fingers tracing over the gold lettering that was slightly faded in some areas where he and the previous owner of these books had both done this ritual a thousand times over. Cracking open the tome, a faint, musty smell hit his nose. Fondness bubbled in his chest as he glanced over the antediluvian words printed upon faded pages that had long gone a pale shade of yellow in some spots. Eyes racking over words he had read before nearly a million times. Pressing his right hand to the page of the book, his fingers traced over the crease of a page, he could almost envision it in his mind as the previous owner—so lost within her thoughts—stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she reached up to tuck back a lock of hair that had slipped from her ponytail. She would have glanced up once she noticed that she was being watched, a dazzling smile that outshined even the brightest of supernovas would have slipped onto her face and she tipped her head back, her laugh would have sounded like the richest of songs.

Anger welled in his chest, replacing the warmth that had been burning inside of him just a few mere seconds before. A shout of frustration ripped itself out of his throat as long-forgotten pieces of advice rattled inside of his skull.

 _Emotion is what fuels the tainted blood running through your veins; it is weakness and to feel it means that you are weak._

There was a deafening roar that buzzed in his ears; one that he didn't realize was clawing itself out of his throat until he lifted his arm and chucked the book in his hand at the far wall. The book smacked against the wall, only to bounce off and crumple to the floor with a silent thud.

"I am not weak."

Just like that he forced himself to lie back down on his bed, where the memories of a long forgotten planet where the books came from, began to recede to the recesses of his mind.

The memories were better left in the back of his mind to be forgotten, just like the origin of the books that sat on the small table.

* * *

Time seemed to slowly pass in the darkness. The lights that lined the cell had a soft hum of energy crackling off of them; there was the mechanical padding of feet beyond the thick door, informing him that his robotic guards were ever-present.

Face crusted with trail marks from where his tears had curved along his face, Lance reached up with the edge of his sleeve to wipe at the thin layer of crust on his skin. Looking around the dark features of his room, he pursed his lips, unable to discern if the cell even so much as contained a toilet or a sink to allow him to relieve himself or even get a bitter of water to scrub at the grime that was already layering onto the surface of his skin.

The door to the cell slid open causing a sliver of light to enter into the small cube-like room. A metal tray clattered down beside Lance's feet, causing the large bowl of almost clear broth to wobble dangerously as liquid sloshed along the edge of the bowl, causing a few droplets to splatter onto the tray.

"Eat." Lotor's arms were already crossed as he casually leaned against the wall of the cell.

Lance glared at the food suspiciously. It was one thing to ignore the food trays that the robotic guards had been ceaselessly delivering three times a day, but it was another thing for Lotor to deliver the meal himself. Sniffing surreptitiously at the air, Lance could smell nothing off with the meal—not like it differed from the countless other meals they had attempted to give him; the same old soup, bread and what he supposed was the space equivalent of cheese—but that didn't mean Lotor somehow didn't tamper with the meal.

Pulling his legs up to his chest, Lance wrapped his arm around his knees as he pressed his cheek against his right knee in order to stare at the smooth purple-washed metal of the cell wall.

Grunting in annoyance, Lotor lightly kicked at the tray with the tip of his boot, causing the bowl to wobble dangerously for a few fleeting seconds before it came to a rest. Tearing his eyes away from the wall, Lance glanced up at Lotor only to give him the dirtiest of looks he could muster on an empty stomach.

Displeasure colored Lotor's face as he uncrossed his arms to point at the tray of uneaten food. "Eat or I will personally have a guard shove your meal down your throat. You're more useful to me alive than dead and I'm sure your esteemed princess wouldn't be too keen on me delivering your emaciated corpse to her."

Even with the threat, Lance made no effort to reach for the food. With a sigh, Lotor bent down and snatched the piece of bread from off the tray, tearing off a piece of the bread to stuff in his mouth. He chewed slowly, a show for Lance, before swallowing, he cocked his brow in defiance as if daring Lance to go without food for another day now that he had evidence the food wasn't poisoned. Lotor held out the bread, a temptation to Lance who hesitantly peeled his hand away from himself and reached out to the bread with some trepidation. Glaring at Lotor, he snatched the bread out of his hand before sinking his teeth into the slightly hard loaf. His stomach gurgled in happiness as he consumed the first thing he had eaten in what felt like several days.

Despite the lightness of the meal—the soup seemed watered down to his taste and the cheese was only a tiny sliver instead of the larger piece that they had placed on the trays previous to this one—Lance scarfed everything down quickly; Lotor seemed to be able to sense the sudden shift in Lance's mood or the way his brows seemingly pinched together as he had stared at the tray as he nearly inhaled his soup. Lance was surprised the Galra prince was even giving him a reasoning behind the lighter variation of the meal.

"You haven't eaten in several days. The lighter meal is more palatable for your stomach as you get used to eating again."

Lance wasn't sure what part of that sentence he should have found more concerning. The fact that Lotor for some odd, unknowing reason took some active interest in making sure Lance didn't die from a heart attack just because he consumed more food than his stomach could handle. Or the fact that based on Lotor's tone, it sounds like he's personally experienced being in Lance's shoes before.

Lotor didn't care to elaborate further but simply stated that he would be back later with Lance's dinner. As the doors to his cell slid open and shut behind Lotor's broad back, Lance allowed himself to tip his face up toward the ceiling of the tiny room and wonder for the first time that day what the hell had just happened.

Nothing changed after that day….

….Well, Lance would be exaggerating if he said nothing didn't.

Lotor still came to his cell with his generals, minus Acxa. They still strapped him down to his bed, regardless of the protests and curses he hurled at them. Narti still reached out to him, her slim fingers pressing against his forehead as pain coursed through his body. Clawed, ghostly fingers raked through his mind; combing through his memory as he ground his teeth together, forcing himself to think of happier moments and happier times. The process left him raw and hollow on the inside; the back of his throat burning from the surge of acidic bile that had seared the walls of his flesh. He always found his body involuntarily shaking as they undid the straps that pinned him down to the slab of hardened metal before they slinked out of the room; the taste of bitter disappointment was almost palatable as they left. Further away from the information they were trying to pull out of him, but no less close to their goal.

Lance didn't know what exactly had happened, but something was changing. He started keeping a mental timer in his head; roughly two hours after being tortured the doors would slide apart to reveal Lotor with a tray of food in his hands. He would step into the room, set the tray down in between them on the floor and waited—as a shark would do to prey that had just entered the water, Lance had thought to himself the first time this had happened—a few minutes would pass between them before the growl of Lance's stomach outweighed the thin veil of rational thought that was clinging to his brain. Snatching the tray up, he would eat the meager bowl of soup, alien-like bread and cheese before he placed the empty tray back down onto the floor and Lotor would stare at him for a few short moments before taking the tray back up and leaving the room.

This pattern reoccurred for at least four more days until the fifth day arrived and Lance noticed a new change.

"What?" Lance winced at the scratchiness of his own voice; the word broke apart in two before it even left his lips due to the lack of use of his own voice that wasn't being used for screaming or hurling a few curses at his captors. The slightly sore nose he sported that had been healed earlier and the droplets of dried blood on the collar of his undersuit were a manifestation to that; a phantom grin pulled at the edges of his lips as he remembered the dark blush of fury that had burned across Zethrid's cheeks as he had hurled a curse at her in Galran that he learned from a member of the Blade of Mamora after a complicated game of what Coran had called Nydaric that Lance swore was a combination of Hungry, Hungry Hippos and Bop-it.

But mostly part of him was confused by the slight change in their dynamic. There was some begrudging understanding that the two of them shared, one that Lance didn't fully understand yet, but he definitely knew that what Lotor was doing wasn't normal either. There was no reasoning behind Lotor bringing him his meals or staying with him in his cell outside the times he wasn't being tortured.

Lotor's lips flattened out into a grim line, "What was that? That... _thing_ you experienced."

Rolling his eyes, Lance lowered the spoon he was holding back down into the bowl of soup. "You're going to have to be a little more specific than that. Are we talking about my feelings of abhorrence towards this soup?" Lance lifted up the bowl to make his point, his brows pinching together. "You know for a race of aliens who conquered a ton of planets would it have killed you guys to learn how to properly season food?"

Ignoring the verbal barb that Lance tossed at him, he continued to speak. "That _thing_ those humans in your memories were doing, sitting on the floor surrounded by wrapped boxes and you were all…laughing."

Lance just stared at him, confusion branding itself into his face until his eyebrows rose until they were nearly in his hairline. "Are you talking about _Noche Buena_ ?"

Lotor's lips couldn't have possibly flattened even more at the unusual amalgamation of words that fell from Lance's lips. Quickly shaking his head, Lance held up a single hand in protest. "Don't even bother trying to pronounce it. You wouldn't get it." _Noche Buena_ is a holiday that gets celebrated on Earth."

"Why wouldn't I 'get it' as you've put it? I know 20 different languages and over 50 different dialects."

Lance couldn't roll his eyes harder than he possibly did. "Did you really kidnap a paladin of Voltron just so you could have a linguistics debate? If you wanted to do that you could have just—" Lance clamped his lips shut when he realized where his train of thought was going. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath. Being held captive on an enemy ship in the middle of space was neither the time nor place for a burgeoning identity crisis. Reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, he sighed. "Okay, this clearly isn't about linguistics, is it?"

There was only silence between the two of them for a few moments, which Lance took as an affirmation. There was a glassy reminiscent look that glazed over Lance's eyes as he straightened his posture and let the memories of countless Noche Buena's roll over him. "It's a holiday that my family celebrates. Every year a bunch of us go to my abuelita's house, get together and eat a bunch of food." The faint smells of _platanito fritos_ , _arroz y frijoles negro_ , and _lechon asado_ were making his mouth water. "It's a big event for us."

"Why? What is the importance of it? Are you celebrating a war that's been won? An enemy you've just killed? A planet you've conquered?"

"What!?" Snapping out of his memory, Lance allowed his eyebrows to shoot up into his hairline. "No! We don't celebrate it for stuff like that." He shrugged his shoulders. "We just celebrate it in honor of Jesus being born."

A flicker of shock and horror flashed in Lotor's eyes as if Lance hadn't just casually explained that humans sometimes celebrate the birth of another, but had instead swept down in front of him with the red lion, blown up his entire ship while blasting Barbie Girl as his victory song. "Humans...celebrate...the birth...of another human being?"

"Yes…?" Drawing the single word out, Lance raised a single brow. "Do the Galra not celebrate birthdays?" Lotor didn't answer, instead, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"That woman in your memories...the one that slightly looked like you, who was she?"

Lance could envision his mother as she wrapped him in her arms during the last _Noche Buena_ he was with his family; she smelt of freshly toasted cinnamon and vanilla beans. A bright smile that showed off the pearly whites of her teeth, pale skin that reddened if she stayed in the sun for too long. Bright blue eyes that resembled his own and curly reddish-brown hair that was framed in gold when the morning light filtered into the kitchen as his mother sat hunched over the kitchen table. Her mug of steaming coffee just a few inches away from her pinkie as she wrinkled her nose down at the crossword puzzle booklet that she loved to buy whenever she went to the store. "That was my mother."

"Your...mother?" Lotor stumbled over the word as if his mouth was full of cotton. A foreign word that was equally a foreign concept to the Galra prince.

"Yea, the woman who gave birth to me and cared for me." Lance snorted. "I get cultures on Earth are weird and everything, but I'm pretty certain you didn't hatch out of an egg and have a mom too. I mean...unless Galra actually do hatch out of eggs."

Lance regretted the moment those words left his lips as Lotor stared down at him, a look of torn anguish burning in his eyes.

Eyes narrowing, Lance cocked his head to the side. "You do have a mom." He paused. "Don't you?"

Lotor's gaze snapped upon him so quickly that if Lance could have taken a step back he would have. Spinning on his heels, Lotor left the room, leaving Lance behind with his tray of half-eaten dinner, a little bit more confused than he had been before.

* * *

 _"Lotor."_

There was darkness surrounding him, an inky, pitch blackness that competed with the darkest depths of space.

 _"Lotor."_

He waded through it, searching for the voice that sounded so familiar to him, but yet foreign. Darkness surrounded him, so thick that he could see nothing that surrounded him.

 _"Lotor."_

He turned and that's when he could see her. A bright light that pierced through the darkness, her arms held out toward him in a loving gesture. Inviting. A motherly sense of nature that emanated from the gesture. Her purple hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, a few wisps framed the sides of her face while a lock of it hung in front of her forehead. There was a small smile on her lips as Lotor rushed toward her. Rushed toward the only light within the darkness.

She wrapped him in a hug, wrapped him a sense of warmth that filled his lungs with fresh air as if for the past 10,000 years he'd never known what it was like to breathe properly. He wrapped his arms around her torso as she pressed her right hand to the back of his head and rested her left on top of his temple as she pressed her nose to his hair and breathed in deeply like she was too afraid to let him go. "My baby boy," she breathed out as Lotor tightened his grip around her.

His heart felt like it was swelling inside of his chest. Allowing his eyes to slip shut, he let himself surrendered to her. Burning the image of her into his mind, even though the few sneaked photos he had seen on a holoscreen as a child were the only images he had seen of her. Her face smiling and bright aside the image of his father. Younger, a little bit more carefree compared to the ancient, draconian side of his father that he'd only ever known of since the moment he could understand his position in life. What everyone around him expected of him, what they wanted from him, but what they hated him for as well.

Taking in a shaky breath, he allowed himself to breathe out the single word that he'd been wishing to say for so long. For long enough that it was nearly washed out of his vocabulary, locked up so deeply in a box and buried behind years of emotional, mental, and physical scars that he wished to leave behind but instead clung to him like iron chains that dragged him down and held him to the ground as they tightened around him.

"Mother." The word burned with sweet relief in the back of his throat. His shoulders sagged slightly as if a small weight was being removed from them.

Honerva stilled at the word, but idly let her left hand stroke the soft locks of Lotor's hair.

"Lotor. My precious baby boy." She repeated the phrase over and over like a mantra she was afraid to forget.

Her grip suddenly tightened in his hair, her fingers pulling at the roots of his locks. _"Prince Lotor."_ His eyes snapped open as he felt clawed fingers pulling at his hair, the hand that had that had been pressed against his mother's back curled away from Haggar as the witch gripped at him with a tight vice. The warmth that had surrounded him was now stale, cold air that had a sense of wrongness to it. In his chest, that sense of coldness wormed its way into his chest where it gripped his heart so tightly that he stilled as Haggar's grip on him tightened as she pulled his head closer to her chest. _"My precious little prince."_

* * *

 **A/N: Lotor's dream sequence is inspired by one of Cherryandsister's works. Unfortunately, this site doesn't really allow links, but please check out her tumblr blog. Her art is perfect!**


	5. No Man's Land

There was a subtle shift in the room that caused Lance to stir from his sleep.

It wasn't like he slept much these days, but the little sleep he got, he was quite grateful for. So when he felt something was off, Lance rolled onto his side to face the door that led into his cell and let out a pitiful scream, his heart slamming into his throat, as he scrambled backward, fell off of the thick slab that served as a bed, and groaned in pain.

As he rose to his feet, with a welt on the back of his head that was the size of an orange, Lance frowned. "Do you not understand the concept of personal space or what?"

A single brow was raised on Lotor's face that did little to hide the confused amusement that colored his features.

When he didn't respond, Lance sighed as he ruffled his own hair. "I can't tell what time it is, but I'm pretty certain it's in the unreasonable hours of un- and socially acceptable." From Lotor's blank expression, Lance realized that he wasn't understanding the message he was attempting to get across. He sighed yet again. "Is there a reason you're here? I'm pretty certain it's not time for you to try and torture any information out of me." There was more to the question that Lance wasn't voicing. He wanted to know why Lotor had been showing up so late to his room lately.

There were times he would be stirred out of his sleep to the hiss of his door parting closed and the lingering feeling hovering in the room that he hadn't been the only person there. Times where he'd rolled onto his side, eyes parting open, expecting there to be another standing at the side of the bed, but instead he clawed at empty air.

Lance groaned, dragging a hand down his face. There was tiredness in his bones that weighed him down; that cut through all the sarcasm and retorts that he was used to having weigh down his tongue. He expected all the other Paladins to be calm, collected, and cool with intelligent and smart things to say. He expected them to say such things but didn't think that that would fall upon his shoulders. He raked his fingers through his hair and blinked, his mouth twisting down into a frown. "I don't understand why you're doing this; I don't understand what's driving you to do this, so why are you?"

Honestly, surprise was an understatement for the way Lance's brows nearly disappeared into his hairline. A snort ripped itself out of Lotor's body as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, a few curls of his long hair shifting with the small movement to fall over his shoulder. "It's quite surprising that you're making no retort or smart quips about this situation."

"Maybe spend a week in my shoes getting tortured every day for what seems like forever and see if you can keep up the quips and retorts." The words had barely left Lance's lips when he felt something shift in the room, a shift that he felt like his words had gotten too close to some open emotional wounds that Lotor clearly kept under lock and key within himself.

There was a glaze; a dim light that burned in Lotor's eyes.

Pursing his lips, Lance stared at the Galran prince. Realization slammed into him like a bucket of freezing water. A nearly silent, "Oh," fell from his lips.

"Don't." Lotor growled the single word out causing Lance's brows to pinch together. "I don't need you to analyze me. I don't need you to understand me. What I need you to do is give me any information you have regarding the lions. "

The urge to retort that that never was going to happen weighed heavily on Lance's tongue, but he bit back the retort and instead responded with, "That's never going to happen. I'm not going to wrap a bow on the lions and hand them over to you nor is Allura. There are too many people in this universe, in other universes that depend on Voltron. That depend on us to keep fighting Zarkon so that no other planet ends up enslaved...or like Altea."

Lance gasps as he finds himself being drawn toward Lotor's face. His knees smacking into the edge of the bed slab, causing him to wince in pain as his face was a hairbreadth away from Lotor's. "Never mention Altea in my presence again."

Lance wanted to ask why but realized that was probably a bad idea right now. His eyes scanned over Lotor's face, taking in the distinct lack of features that would obviously make him a Galra aside from his ginormous height, purple skin, pointed ears, and yellow sclera. Lotor lacked any distinction of fur that typically covered Galra's and oftentimes blended seamlessly with the hair of their scalps. Instead, Lotor had obvious pupils, Lance noticed that his claws seemed retractive like a cat's. There were a bunch of differences that Lance found in Lotor and even his own generals. He never noticed before how different Lotor was compared to the rest of the Galra in terms of facial appearance. He guesses that he never put much thought into it outside of freaking out whenever Lotor and his generals were trying to murder them.

But it did little to make clearer why Lotor was so testy toward any mention of Altea. Lance couldn't draw a connection between that and Lotor being half-Galra. Lotor made no effort to say anything else as he released the collar of Lance's undersuit from his grip.

Without a single word, Lotor turned on his heels and left Lance's cell. Leaving Lance behind with more questions than answers regarding the prince.

* * *

"Lotor, there's an incoming call from Haggar. Should we patch it through?" Acxa looked every bit sympathetic to the look of disgust that flickered across Lotor's face at the mention of Haggar.

"Do we have any other option besides taking the call?"

"Ooh!" Ezor chirped up from she sat on the dais. "We could always run out of the room, accept the call, and have Haggar freak out as she wonders where everyone is."

"Or we could just punch the monitor and not have to listen to anything she says." Zethrid huffed out her reply as she glanced pensively toward Lotor.

Lotor pressed the palm of his hand to his mouth, hiding the soft smile that tugged at the edges of his lips. Taking a moment to collect himself, he let the smile drop from his face, took in a breath, and let a blank, expressionless mask settle itself onto his face. Turning his head toward Acxa, he nodded at her. "Patch her through."

It took barely a second before Haggar's face was hovering above the throne Lotor was seated on. Her hood pulled over her face, casting the gaunt angles and planes of her to be cast in shadow, leaving only the glow of her eyes and the background behind her as the few things not cloaked by shadows.

"Prince Lotor." The witch spat out his name like it was filth upon her tongue, her lips turned downward in disgust as she stared at his visage.

Lotor refused to let it get to him. He never once allowed it to get to him in the little over 10,000 years he'd been alive and he wouldn't allow it to get to him now. "To what unfortunate displeasure do I owe this call?"

"Prince Lotor, it has come to my attention that you've captured the Blue Paladin."

"Yes, quite a feat that not even Zarkon himself was capable of doing."

That got Haggar's lips to flatten out into a single line of displeasure. If Lotor wasn't being intently stared down right now, he would have brazenly dared to crack another smile.

"Yes," Haggar hummed, "Zarkon may not have been able to bring a Paladin underneath his thumb, but you've failed where your father would have strived." Lotor's brows pinched in frustration as his grip on the arm of his throne tightened, the knuckles underneath his gloves going pale. "Your father would have been able to have the Blue Paladin broken by now, spilling every bit of information he has." Haggar's eyes narrowed. "And you've failed to do that so far, Prince Lotor."

"I've made progress," Lotor spat out, only causing Haggar's lips to curl upward in a cruel smile.

"Have you? It's a shame that is isn't anything like the progress your father made. I'll be sending General Zorak to your location tomorrow, to conduct the interrogation of the Blue Paladin. I expect there to be swift progress that is made." Haggar waited for a few ephemeral moments to see if Lotor would make any attempt to challenge her orders. He knew that despite his status as interim Emperor, the witch would gladly challenge him and his orders. If he so much as called for a public duel, she would readily pick up a knife and stab him in the heart with it. "Your father would be most disappointed in you, Prince Lotor."

With that, the transmission came to end as the holographic screen disappeared from his site.

Sighing, Lotor let his grim on the arm of his chair loosen. "Axca, find out every bit of information you can about General Zorak and send it to me."

"Will do, Sir."

Pressing the knuckles of his hand against his mouth, Lotor's eyes narrowed as the feeling of discomfort settled in the pit of his stomach as he thought about the general Haggar was sending over tomorrow. Nothing about this new development felt right to him. But most of all he was concerned by this worry that wiggled around in the pit of his stomach.

Was it worry for himself...or was it for the Blue Paladin?

* * *

It didn't take long for Acxa to find any information about General Zorak, instead, she found plenty and what she found had Lotor's stomach twisting into knots. Whereas his preferred methods of interrogation were mostly boiled down to manipulative tactics and Narti's ability to read minds with the minuscule, but occasional need for violence on Zethrid's part. General Zorak was the complete opposite of him; as different from him as the ecosystem's on two different planets.

A chill ran over Lotor's skin, though he wasn't certain if it was for him or what the Blue Paladin was going to have to endure. Just one glance at him and Lotor had been able to glean that the Paladin had never had to have endured any sort of interrogation or torture before, while his knowledge of Earth was rightfully limited, he'd drawn conjectures that the Blue Paladin and by extension the rest of the Paladins didn't need or never had to endure the experiences that Lotor had grown accustomed to.

He breathed out a sigh as he tossed down the data pad in his hand.

The Blue Paladin was going to die.

Rising to his feet, Lotor didn't spare another glance toward the datapad he had thrown down nor the video that was playing upon the screen.

There was a cat-like Humanoid strapped down to a chair, above its head was a bright purple drill.

In the corner of the video was General Zorak, a hulking figure with a scar marring half of his face. "Tell me everything you know." The drill descended lower and lower until the tip was pointed toward the figure's eyes.

"Please don't. I have a family." The next word's the humanoid said were garbled out by intelligible screams as the drill whirred through soft flesh and then the video cut to black.

* * *

Lance paused mid-chew of his lunch to squint at Lotor. He swallowed, the piece of cheese sliding down his throat as he continued to stare at the prince.

"Either I'm hallucinating or you're actually standing in front of me right now."

"There's a general coming to interrogate you tomorrow."

A cocky grin stretched across Lance's face. "Wow, I must be getting popular or something."

"This isn't a joking matter. The type of torture you'll undergo tomorrow is...different. You need to steel yourself mentally."

Lance snorted as he tore off a chunk of his bread and popped it into his mouth. "I'll be fine. What's the worst that could happen anyway?"

* * *

"General Zorak, it's a pleasure to meet you." Lotor stood in the hangar as General Zorak lugged his impressive frame toward Lotor. He was the same height as Zarkon, but his width was comparable to two giant boulders pushed together.

Lotor held out his hand in offering for the general, who stared down at it as if Lotor's hand or the very limb itself was offending him.

"I don't shake hands with those who are _blood traitors_ to the very empire itself."

Biting down on the tip of his tongue, Lotor motioned toward his generals to keep their peace as they stiffened at the usage of such an offensive language. All five of them had had every name, offensive slur, and downright derogatory language thrown at them for being Galra hybrids.

But using the term "blood traitor" was taking it to an entirely different level.

Delight was painted all over General Zorak's face, knowing that he had gotten a rile out of all of them—except Lotor—by the usage of his words.

"I'll see to the Blue Paladin myself," General Zorak continued, "and make sure that he sings for me the secrets you yourself have failed to get."

The General left the hangar bay, his own personal squad of soldiers trailing behind him.

As he left, Zethrid let out a frustrated growl as she punched her fist into the palm of her other hand and grumbled at Lotor. "You should have let me rip his head off of his soldiers when I had the chance."

"As much as I would have loved to give you the order, I don't exactly want the hangar bay covered in blood and dead bodies." That brought a smile to Zethrid and his other general's face.

"I don't know," Acxa face was lit up by her own smile. "I think this hangar bay would have looked better with the new decorations."

* * *

Barely a few minutes had passed before the Blue Paladins screams tore through the halls. Lotor's eyes were shut close, his limbs relaxed as he sat upon his throne. To any other, they would have supposed Lotor seemed calm and relaxed despite the tortured screams tearing through the halls, but his generals knew better. His generals knew that he was attempting to block out the noise; the sounds of it all. And that underneath the mask he wore, draped in silken lies and false airs that he was as disturbed as them.

A shiver traveled up Zethrid's back as another scream came again, causing her to grumble about heading down to the training room so she could rip off a robot's head or two.

Ezor frowned as barely a heartbeat past before cries of "please, stop" and "no more, please" ripped through the hallways and clawed its way into the room. "Is it bad that I feel bad for him?" She tossed out into the air.

No one said anything.

They didn't need to because they all knew the answer to her question.

No.

* * *

When Lotor entered Lance's cell later that evening, he was curled up on his slab of a bed. His entire body shaking, despite the warm conditions of the room. Lotor could smell the metallic tang of blood lingering in the air as the doors behind him slid shut with a _hiss_.

In the blink of an eye, Lance on his feet, the sharp end of a spoon—that had clearly been shaven till the tip was nice and sharp—was pointed at the vein of Lotor's throat.

Lotor's nostrils flared, the barest hint of surprise and amusement coloring his eyes. On one hand, he was impressed that somehow the Blue Paladin had stolen an eating cutlery and somehow managed to sharpen it down despite the constant supervision he was under. He was still allowed his lunch and dinner meals, despite General Zorak torturing him for the entirety of the day. He knew that General Zorak despite his love for sadistic torture methods, still allowed his prisoners their three times a day meals. As he put it: "There's no use for a prisoner passing out on me. What's the fun in torturing someone who's barely got a piece of bread in their stomach?"

Lotor was delighted by the Paladin's ingenuity and intrepidness under these conditions. But he certainly didn't like any sort of weapon, makeshift or not, being pointed at his throat.

Lance's eyes widened as if the weapon he held in his hand wasn't for Lotor to meet his demise, but someone else…

"Oh," the word fell softly from Lotor's lips and the urge to laugh was overwhelming.

"This wasn't meant for you," Lance mumbled as he pulled the weapon away from Lotor's throat.

"I know," he replied, "but what makes you think that a sharpened spoon was going to be enough to murder someone like General Zorak?"

Lance's shoulders fell, his grip on the spoon became tighter. "It was just going to be a bluff."

Lotor's eyes raked over the dark circles underneath Lance's eyes, the way his eyes didn't burn with life and defiance even when Lotor had him strapped to the bed and Narti right beside his side. No, General Zarkon had done something even Lotor had been unable to do.

He'd broken the Blue Paladin's spirit.

And Lotor didn't know why, but that made him angry.

With a gloved hand, Lotor reached out and gripped Lance's wrist which earned Lotor a flicker of surprise burning in Lance's eyes.

Lotor kept his gaze steady, his eyes locked with Lance's own as he lifted his hand and pointed the tip of the sharpened spoon at the hollow of his throat. The spot where if Lance just moved his hand a few centimeters over, Lotor could envision, if Lance had a weapon that could cleave deep enough, he would be able to expose the column of bone.

"If you're going to attempt to at least have some leverage over the general, make sure you keep your weapon pointed here." Lotor let go of Lance's wrist to tap at the spot where the sharpened spoon was pointed. "It's where the most important vein in the body is. If you cut it, your enemy will bleed out in mere seconds, but only if you cut deep enough and severe the vein enough."

Lance's brows rose on his face. He was wondering why Lotor was teaching him this and even parts of Lotor were wondering the same thing as well. But instead, he chose to nod gratefully and pull the weapon away from Lotor's throat.

Lotor cleared his throat as he held up the small, cylindrical container that he came to Lance's cell to present as an offering. "This is for you."

Lance stared at the small container suspiciously. "Why? What is it?"

Unscrewing the top of the container, Lance revealed a creamy substance with a light, fragrant scent that reminded Lance of a mixture of Aloe vera and rose petals. "It's a medicinal salve that helps...quickly heal all injuries."

That caused Lance's eyes to narrow. "Why are you—"

"Just take it." Lotor growled out, screwing back the top of the container, before shoving it in Lance's chest.

"Thanks," Lance mumbled. Dropping the metal spoon onto his bed, Lance used his free hand to roll up the arm of his undersuit, revealing small pinprick-like punctures that started up from Lance's elbow and undoubtedly were peppered all over his body. They were evenly spaced like someone strapped a pressure cuff to Lance's arm that had thumbtacks glued to the interior. Some of the wounds were weeping droplets of blood.

Lance unscrewed the cap of the salve, scooped some up with his index and middle finger and heaved a sigh of relief as he spread the medicinal salve onto his wounds. As he rubbed the material into his skin, the wounds rapidly healed before his eyes, leaving behind unblemished skin like Lance had never been tortured. Letting out a low whistle, Lance began to apply the salve to more of his wounds but stopped when he reached the hem of his rolled-up sleeve. His eyes flickered up to Lotor's face.

"If you mind, I'd like a little privacy."

Begrudgingly, Lotor nodded as he turned to leave the room. The door hissing open as it slid apart. He could hear Lance taking off the pieces of his armor and as he stepped into the hallway and turned around, he watched as Lance peeled himself out of the upper half of his undersuit, exposing the bare skin of his back that was littered with more of those puncture-like wounds. The door slid shut, blocking Lotor's vision of Lance, but it did little to erase the clear-cut picture that he could see in his mind.

It continued for three days.

Lance's screams would claw through the hallways reaching Lotor and his general's ears. Each one of them more disturbed by the minute. The Galra were used to impressive military tactics, using force and power to get what they needed, but General Zorak was an outlier. An outlier that celebrated in glee for drawing out the torture of his prisoners.

At one point Acxa made a pointed comment to Lotor about taking a blaster to Zorak's head. Zethrid threatened to tear his limbs off one by one. Ezor threatened to find a Vrigar pit to throw him into and watch the scaly worm-like creatures burrow into his stomach. Narti…

Narti said some things that had Lotor and his general's raising their brows, stare at Narti in stunned silence, and agree to never speak about the topic again.

But these three days, Lotor kept finding himself drawn to Lance's cell. A container of the medicinal salve in his hands and each time Lotor entered that cell, he found the Paladin more tired. More broken than he had ever been.

The wounds even were becoming unbearable to look at.

Just this night, when Lotor walked in, Lance could barely even raise both of his arms. So Lotor kneeled beside the bed, gingerly rolling up the sleeve of Lance's undersuit, revealing purple and green blotchy marks littering his arm.

There was a hiss of pain as Lotor gingerly touched Lance's arm to lift it up so that he could smear the salve on it.

"It's broken." Was Lance's only reply.

Neither of them said anything as Lotor healed Lance's broken arm and moved onto the other. It was an...odd experience, almost intimate in nature. Neither of them talking but listening to the sounds of each other's breathing as they grew lost in their own separate thoughts.

Lotor cleared his throat as he rose to his feet, Lance nervously played with the hem of his undersuit, clearly waiting for Lotor to leave so he could tend to the rest of his wounds that Lotor wasn't privy to see.

"I'll have Acxa bring your meal to you."

The only reply he got was a single nod from Lance.

As Lotor left the room, he was surprised to see Acxa in the hall waiting for him.

"Lotor, this isn't healthy for you."

"What isn't?"

"You visiting the Paladin like this. You're shifting the blame upon yourself for a situation that isn't under your control—"

"—and that's precisely why I'm shifting the blame upon myself." Lotor cut her off, his brows pinching together as feelings long buried reared their head and attempted to push themselves up to the surface. "Whether it's healthy or not for me, only I can be the one to decide that."

Acxa's voice was soft as she walked over to Lotor's side. She reached out and touched him gently upon his arm.

Lotor sighed, "Thank you for being concerned, Acxa."

She gave him a quick smile before her face became as expressionless as his. "I'm just concerned. We already haven't found a way to get access to the lion we already have on this ship nor the coordinates for the other lions of Voltron and we don't need Haggar interfering more than necessary."

"You don't need to worry about Haggar."

"Why is that?"

"Haggar doesn't lead the Galra. I do."

They both walked toward the main com room. Ezor let out a shout of joy as Zethrid gave him a giant grin.

"So, what's our next course of action?" Acxa asked.

Lotor tipped his head back, thinking for a few brief moments, before coming to his decision. "I think a call to a certain princess is in order."

* * *

The doors to the bridge slid open, allowing Keith to march in. Anger clearly visible on his face like an oncoming storm. "How could you guys allow Lance to be captured!?"

His anger was clearly directed to everyone, but his pinched gaze was focused on Allura whose hands were clasped in front of her chest. Her eyes downcast to her feet. "I'm sorry, I did what I could, but I failed—"

Bringing his fist down on a console closest to him, Keith roared. "You didn't do enough!"

"Woah, Keith, buddy!" Hunk jumped to his feet from where he had been sitting, quickly moving to place himself between Keith and Allura. "That isn't cool, Allura's already beating herself up for this, she doesn't need you to do it too."

Keith clenched his teeth together, letting out an annoyed huff, as he spun on his heels and headed out of the bridge.

"We don't have time to be arguing amongst one another," Shiro spoke up, "right now we need to figure out a plan of action with the Blade of Mamora so that we can rescue Lance."

"Hold on, Shiro." Pidge hopped to her feet. "I'm going to go talk to Keith."

Running out of the bridge, it wasn't that hard to locate Keith. Pidge rapped her knuckles against the door of his room.

"Go away!" Came the muffled yell from his bedroom.

"I'm not going away and if you don't open this door I'll just play the Bill Nye the Science Guy theme song at full volume until you do!" A smile stretched across Pidge's face. This was a battle of wills; having an older brother had made sure that she was fine-tuned to the art of annoying others when she truly needed it.

There was a groan on the other side of the door, she heard Keith rising to his feet, and then the door in front of her face hissed open. "What do you want, Pidge?"

"For you to not be a dick to Allura?" Keith gave her a threatening growl, causing Pidge to roll her eyes. "Everyone's worried about Lance; everyone is worried about what he's going through right now. When you weren't here, Allura was practically tearing herself apart. Right now we don't need another person tearing Allura down or anyone else on the team. We all need to be there for each other. And just because you're hurting right now Keith, doesn't mean you can take your anger out on her. We're all hurting."

Keith's mouth parted open, a rebuttal clearly weighing down his tongue.

"Don't." Pidge held a single finger up and pointed it at his face. "You need to drop your self-centeredness and go apologize to Allura."

Keith sighed, letting his eyes fall shut. "When did you become so smart?"

A smug grin stretched across Pidge's face as she rolled her eyes again. "I was born with it. Now come on, let's go to the bridge before you decide to run or something."

They walked back to the bridge. Shiro was busily going over plans with Kolivan on finding the location of Lotor's ship and rescuing Lance when the bridge went awash with red flashing lights.

"What's going on?" Hunk's eyes widened in alarm as Coran's fingers danced over the control pad.

Coran inhaled a shocked gasp, "Princess, you're never going to believe this, but...we're receiving a call from...Lotor."

Allura's face went pale as Pidge balled up her hands into fists. "If he hurt Lance, I will personally kick Lotor's purple-colored as—"

"Pidge!" Shiro gave Pidge a stern glare before turning to face Coran. "Bring up the call."

Coran tapped a few keys, before Lotor's face appeared before them all.

"Lotor!" Allura hissed. "What do you want?"

Lotor hummed to himself. "I have an interesting proposition for you, Princess Allura."

"A proposition!?" Pidge shouted. "If that proposition is to kick your butt then I'll gladly take you on that offer."

Lotor seemed amused by Pidge's outburst.

"Name the terms of your proposition, Lotor." Allura kept her eyes trained on him, even as the bridge went into an uproar as everyone besides Shiro was wondering what Allura was thinking.

"There are no terms, princess, merely a prize. And that prize is your precious Paladin."

Allura's eyebrows shot up so far on her face that they nearly disappeared into her hairline. "You want to give us back Lance...with nothing of value to you?"

"Consider my giving your precious Paladin back to you as equally beneficial to me as it is to you."

"Why are you doing this?" Shiro placed his arms in front of his chest. There was a slight throbbing pain in the back of his head that caused a bead of sweat to dribble down his temple.

"I have my own reasons for it," Lotor replied, "I'll have one of my generals send you the coordinates of my ship. It's best if you attack me in twenty vargas when most of the guards aboard this ship will be using that time to rest. Allowing you the perfect time to swoop in and rescue your Paladin."

With nothing more to be said, the transmission disappeared from the screen, leaving the members of Team Voltron in stunned silence.

"Are we really going to trust him?" Keith was the first one to voice what every single one of them was thinking.

"Is there any other option that not to?" Hunk spoke up, his mouth was set into a grim line. "I mean...he's willing to give us Lance for nothing in return."

"Yea, but what if it's a trap!" Pidge pointed out. "Are we forgetting that he's the emperor of the Galra Empire!"

"The acting Emperor, Pidge." Hunk swiveled around in his seat to face the Green Paladin. "He can't be as awful as Zarkon. And we all know how awful Zarkon was, the guy looked like he would kick puppies for fun!"

"Lotor may not be as awful as his dad, but can take a giant foot shoved up his as—"

"Pidge." Shiro cut Pidge off yet again, fixing her with a stern look that came across like an older brother admonishing their younger sibling. "Hunk is right. We don't have a whole lot of reasons to trust Lotor, but we should take him up on his offer."

"What!" Keith's brows pinched together as his eyes widened in incredulity. "What if this is all a trap? A trap so that he can get the rest of the lions?"

"Then it's a trap we're going to have to fall into and figure out how to undo ourselves from it." Shiro winced, grunting as a sharp throb of pain ripped through his scalp.

"Shiro? Are you alright?" Allura was by his side, a gentle hand pressed against the back of his shoulder.

"I'll be fine, once I get some rest." Shiro attempted to reassure her.

Coran cleared his throat as he suggested that all the Paladins go and get some rest as he set a course for the coordinates of Lotor's ship. As the Paladins filed out of the room, Coran couldn't help the sinking feeling weighing down his stomach.

* * *

Cold sweat traveled down Lance's skin as his eyes snapped open, his hand instantly darting for the sharpened spoon he now kept hidden underneath his pillow. His fingers just brushed the cool metal when they stilled as he squinted at the figure standing motionless in his cell.

"Lotor?"

He blinked, trying to get the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes. Lotor was standing near the door to his cell, arms crossed in front of his chest, and looking slightly disheveled—maybe disheveled wasn't the right word, but how do you describe someone who looks like they rolled around in bed once and still looked pristine enough to be on the cover of a fashion magazine?

"Your team is coming to get you in a little less than 20 vargas."

Lance's eyes widened at the news. "Ha—how?"

"Just make sure you're ready." Lotor turned to leave, but Lance shouted for him to stop.

Shaking his head, Lance forced himself to sit upright. "I can't figure you out. I really can't. You're supposed to be the Emperor of the Galra. One of the bad guys! And yet you're here showing me compassion and kindness. I just don't get why?"

"Must there be a reason for it?"

"Yes!"

Lotor sighed, turning on his feet to face Lance. "Then how naive of you to think so. Sometimes there are people who are motivated beyond greed and their own desires; beyond promises of glory, fame, and reverence. Who simply choose to do the things they do because there is no benefit to them."

"You say that," Lance whispered, "but there's a reason you're clearly doing this."

"What was your childhood like?"

The question threw Lance off balance. "What?"

"What. Was. Your. Childhood. Like." Lotor drew out the pronunciation of each word.

Lance replied with a frown, wrinkles of confusion marring his brow. "It was normal I guess. My parents love me, we celebrate my birthdays, do normal things that other families do."

There was a bitter chuckle that pulled itself from Lotor's throat. He whispered something that forced Lance to lean forward on the slab in an effort to hear him. Despite the way his hair framed his face, Lance could see the pain behind Lotor's eyes as prepared himself to tell whatever story needed to be told. There was a pain in Lotor's eyes; a pain that no more than a few wild embers, twisting themselves in the air as they burst from smoldering logs that were giving out their last, final breaths.

"You must have been lucky." Lotor sniffed, "the few glimpses of my father's face that I got, were usually when he was making a public lesson of how weak I was by tearing me down or better yet training it out of me." Lance shivered at his words, pushing away the imagery of a younger Lotor cowering in fear as Zarkon loomed menacingly over him.

"I was a child," Lotor scoffed, the years of pent-up bitterness apparent in his throat. Lance swallowed, knowing that the wound branded into Lotor's heart must have been as fresh as when it had been first made. "A stupid child," Lotor continued, "who thought it wise to challenge my father in front of the other Galra generals."

Lotor took a deep, shuddering breath. Tipping his head back, he briefly shut his eyes and let silence wash over the two of them.

Lance said nothing about the faint, watery shimmer that he saw in Lotor's eyes.

A second passed. Then two, then twenty; an entire minute passed as Lance listened to Lotor's deep, shuddering breaths as he attempted to collect himself. Lotor didn't bother opening his eyes but continued on with his story nonetheless. "A child," Lotor reiterated. Though Lance was unsure if it was meant for him or a brutal reminder for Lotor at the unjustness that had been cast against him. A bitter laugh bubbled in Lotor's throat. "I dared, openly to suggest that maybe my father's ways—the old Galra ways—were outdated. That we needed something fresh and knew. That we needed to let the planets within our empire govern themselves, let them trust us. Instead of filling them with fear or hatred, less one day the very empire that we ruled, would be one that could be turned into a double-edged sword against us."

Silence consumed them once more before Lance pierced the silence with his own question. "What—what did he do?"

A bitter smile pulled at the corner of Lotor's lip. "What I expected him to. I spoke out of turn. I dared to question his plan, his very authority and I would have to pay for it." There was a momentary pause. "And he made sure I did."

There was a coldness in Lotor's eyes. Two, glassy orbs of frozen ice. Lance shivered, wrapping his arms around himself.

"I thought he would punish me," Lotor sneered, "but instead he ordered me to a duel. One between himself and I. A duel to be witnessed in front of every Galra who was eager to attend, to see their own emperor discipline a child, his child. The blood traitor that he had sired who had dared to question him." Lotor spat out the derogatory term as if it was a sin.

Lotor laughed, a bitter, manic laugh that left him hiccuping for a few short moments before tears were leaking from his eyes and those hiccups of laughter turned into bitter sobs. Lance felt uncomfortable watching Lotor's carefully built walls breaking, but knew that Lotor felt some sort of trust in him. Some sort of comfort and compassion to allow him to see them break. "Do you know what it felt like?" To watch your own father raise a sword against you? Humiliate you in front of an entire empire? After spending years desperately trying to please my father? Gain a little ounce of praise out of him, a small indication that I had done something in my life to finally make him proud. Only for all of that to be cast away the moment he gazed at me and I could see, there wasn't a single shred of him in his eyes that held any love for me."

Lotor chuckled bitterly as he combed his long, thin fingers through his hair. "Do you want to know what he told me?" Lance held his breath as Lotor didn't give him the opportunity to respond. "He told me that I was weak; merely a prince who sat atop a kingdom made of dust and broken bones. An heir to nothing." Lotor spat out the words bitterly. "He couldn't even bear to look at me as he told me I was banished from the empire." Lotor's upper lip curled into a sneer. "That he would rather have no heir to his throne that a son who was spineless and weak."

"You were just a kid," Lance finally whispered.

Lotor snorted as he turned his head to gaze into Lance's eyes. "That clearly didn't stop my father. Did it?"

Reaching up, Lotor brushed the tears that had slipped down his cheeks away with the back of his hand. "Tell me, Paladin, do you believe in fate?"

Lance didn't respond for quite some time, selecting his words carefully. "No. Not really. I believe people make their own individual choices that can change the outcome of their futures."

Lotor made a movement, the doors to the cell sliding open. He paused there, his back cloaked by the shadows, his face illuminated by the purple luminescent lights in the hallway."Do you really want to know why the Paladins are racing to you now? Racing to come and save you?" Lance nodded.

"Because...I'm nothing like my father."

* * *

 **A/N: Wow, so I'm behind on crossposting chapters for this fic. Don't be alarmed to see a bunch of email alerts about this fic, merely trying to get it updated with where I'm currently at on Ao3 before I attempt to upload some special chapters I've been working on.**


	6. Conflicted Storm

Lance didn't know what he expected to feel exactly when he dreamt of his glorious escape. He had expected to feel ecstatic, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he raced through the halls toward his Lion; taking shots at any Galra guard that came his way. Instead, he found himself standing in his cell, waiting for the vargas to tick away as he adjusted his armor, tucked his helmet into the crook of his arm as he stared down at his feet and worried about how he'd get his Bayard back. How he didn't feel the littlest bit of jollity as he waited for his friends to come and rescue him. Instead, Lance found his thoughts preoccupied by Lotor; by everything that the Galra prince had done for him, things that had seemingly seen so out of character for him.

He didn't have much time to dwell on these thoughts as a blast of energy impacted the ship, causing the interior of his cell to become awash in a dark shade of lavender, emergency sirens blaring in his ears that competed with the sound of thundering footsteps outside of his cell. The door to his cell slid open, revealing someone he never expected to be standing before him.

"I think you're going to need this to get out of here." An object sailed through the air, Lance reached out and caught it, his fingers wrapping around the handle of his Bayard, the satisfying weight of the weapon in his hand serving as a conduit that grounded him.

"Thanks," Lance mumbled toward Acxa, who stood in the middle of the doorway to his cell like a sentry.

She stood there, her gaze boring into Lance as blast after blast caused the floor beneath them to shake and rumble. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed in a gaze that was saturated with suspicion. "What did you do to him?"

The ship shook again, causing Lance's mouth to turn downward into a rankled frown. "Should we really be having this conversation right now? When the ship is under attack?"

Faster than Lance could ramble, Acxa was standing in front of him. Her hand gripping his right wrist, her fingers slightly digging into the soft flesh. "What did you do to Lotor?" She hissed just soft enough for him to hear, but a mere whisper amongst the chaotic noise that competed for both of their attentions.

"If I knew, I would love to tell you. But I hardly understand what's going on myself."

Acxa shook her head as if she didn't believe the words coming out of Lance's mouth. "Lotor would never—he would never risk his life, _risk_ everything just to help the enemy." Her eyes seemed to narrow even further.

Lance was stunned at Acxa's words. "What are you saying?"

"How do you think your teammates knew what quadrant to find us in? To come and rescue you?"

Sucking in a breath of disbelief, his mind was racing as he watched as Acxa turned her back to him and walked to the doorway of his cell. "You know Lotor better than I do, so why'd he do it?"

There was a bemused, yet tired smirk on Acxa's face as she turned her head in Lance's direction. "If I knew, I would love to tell you." Lance watched as she disappeared out into the hallway, among the blinking lights and groups of Galra guards racing off to defeat the enemy. Still stunned by Acxa's sudden usage of snark and the little nuggets of information that she had dropped into his hands, he nearly missed the sharp crackle of the communicator built into his helmet.

Quickly slipping the last piece of armor on over his head, Lance found himself melting in relief at the sound of Shiro's voice.

"Lance, come in. If you're safe and sound."

"I'm fine, Shiro. Could use a decent bath, some decent food, and a luxurious spa day, ooh and maybe—"

There was a chuckle on the other end of the communicator, though Lance could hear the other Paladins beside Shiro groaning at Lance's rambling.

"Well," Shiro continued, "get back to your Lion, regroup with us, and we can get you back home, Lance."

"Alright. I'm making my way there." Lance confirmed as he rushed out into the hallway, his Bayard glowing as it transformed into its signature form as a rifle. The lights on the ship were still pulsing in that dark lavender glow. Breathing through his nose, Lance raced through the hall, passing by rows of cells. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Lance was worried about getting back to his Lion. He didn't know the layout of the ship, save for the moments he was being dragged down the hall by a pair of guards to be tortured by General Zorak. And the last time he'd been on any other part of the ship, he'd been unconscious for the duration of it.

He just needed to put his faith into his Lion.

Dropping down onto his right knee, Lance aimed his Bayard at a Galra guard who's mouth twisted in shocked surprise. He raised his gun, aimed it at Lance, but Lance was quicker as he pressed his index finger against the trigger of his own weapon. The blast from Lance's gun hit the guard in his shoulder, forcing him to drop his own weapon and stumble backward from getting hit. Quickly rising to his feet, Lance ran toward the guard his Bayard transforming once more until it took on the form of an Altean Broadsword. Seemingly fearful that he was going to be sliced in half, the guard raised his hands in order to protect himself, but Lance spun on his feet, giving him a clear view of the back of the guard's neck. Raising the sword, Lance turned it in his hand so that the flat part of the blade was parallel to the guard's body. Swinging the sword forward, an audible smack rang in Lance's ears as the sword connected with the fleshy part of the guard's neck. Lance didn't bother watching the guard's unconscious form crumble to the floor.

Continuing to race through the halls, he rounded corners and blindly ran through corridors, using only his intuition as a means of guiding himself back to his Lion. Rounding another corner, Lance swiveled on his feet, pressing his back against a wall as a group of guards ran off as another blast of enemy fire caused the ship to quiver beneath his feet.

Letting out a thick sigh as a bead of perspiration trailed itself down the side of his scalp, he pushed himself off of the wall. It only took him a few minutes to find the hangar bay, when he did he let out a sigh of relief when Red came into view. "Oh, Red, I can't believe I'm even saying this, but I've never been so happy to see you."

The Lion let out a roar of excitement as the shield around it disappeared. Lance was just a few seconds away from being home free, he took a step forward, and felt all of the air in his lungs being pushed out of him as a massive frame of another being slammed into his side. Lance spluttered out as he found himself rolling across the ship's floor, his Bayard skidding out of his hand as he lost his grip on it. Drawing in a shuddering breath, a hand flew to his ribs and lightly pressed against the armor, grinding his teeth as a wave of pain rolled through his body. Lance suspected that his ribs at least had to have been bruised, maybe even broken. Turning his head, Lance didn't have any time to block the kick that was aimed at his head. His helmet flew off of his head from the force of the kick, it sailed through the air and banged somewhere against the floor behind him. He could feel the warmth of his own blood trickling down his lips and jaw from his broken nose that was throbbing with pain.

" _You!_ "

Glancing up at the person who attacked him, Lance scowled at General Zorak's face looking down at him. There was a malicious grin stretching across his face that made the scar marring it all the more hideous. "I don't think we're through having our fun together before you decide to crawl away to the other Paladins. _We haven't even gotten to the good parts yet_."

There was a pitiful, gurgling cough that wrenched itself from Lance's throat as his eyes widened. A meaty hand that was larger than two of Lance's heads put together was wrapped around his throat. Lance spluttered, his gloved hands curling as they pitifully attempted to claw at Zorak's hand that was crushing his throat. It only gave Zorak a reason to laugh as he drew Lance up off of the floor so that his feet were dangling in the air. Zorak took a few hulking strides, towards a wall. Lance could feel his teeth rattling in his skull; stars and dark spots dancing at the recesses of his vision as Zorak slammed him against the wall. His back and the back of his skull colliding against the metal with a sickening sound.

"I wonder," General Zorak crooned, "how that _blood traitor_ , Lotor would feel when he finds your corpse. Bloody and broken; organs pulled out in a wondrous display." His grip on Lance's throat tightened, he could feel the blood rushing to his lips and cheeks, turning them bright shades of scarlet even as his skin paled from the lack of oxygen in his lungs. "It's so apparent, really. That, that _thing_ would visit your cell every night after our little sessions. Tell me—" the general let out a gruff laugh at the realization that Lance couldn't speak due to the lack of oxygen in his veins, he released his hold slightly. Lance gulped down huge gasps of air into his lungs, perspiration dripping down his skin. "—just what does that little blood traitor finds so interesting in a pathetic, substandard creature like you." Eyes narrowing, Zorak cocked his head to the side as he studied Lance. He squeezed Lance's neck a little tighter, not enough to choke off his air, but enough to remind Lance that his hand is keeping him on the precipice of life or death.

"Unless," There was a smirk on the general's face that caused a shiver of dread that clawed up Lance's back. "There's something _interesting_ about you that keeps drawing that little prince back to your cell _every single night_." Lance shook, his own hold on the general's hand tightening at his implication that Lotor's visits to his cell were sexual in nature. In some part of his mind, he was more so angry at the implication on Lotor's behalf. His mind rooted around in his memories, in the shared memories that he and Lotor kept of the gentle touch on his broken arm as Lotor softly rubbed the medicinal salve into his skin to heal the broken bones beneath the flesh. Of Lotor standing in the near darkness of his cell, unshed tears shining in his eyes as he relayed parts of his life story to him.

If anything it did nothing but to piss Lance off. But the glimmer of anger burning hotly in Lance's eyes only made Zorak laugh.

"What? A few sweet words whispered in the dark and suddenly you feel...protective over that little blood traitor?" He snorted darkly. "If he wasn't the emperor's son, I'd seek to cut out Lotor's heart myself so that his _filthy_ Altean blood wasn't such a blemish upon our glorious empire."

Lance's eyes widened in shock as the dots connected in his head. The fact that Lotor's generals were all clearly hybrid's, the fact that Lotor was so testy when it came to any mention of Altea. The stark difference between Lotor's features and the other Galra. Dread and realization settled itself in the pit of his stomach like a heavy stone as Lance became privy to a secret that peeled back more of the complicated layers that made Prince Lotor who he was. It left Lance breathless—though Zorak's fingers squeezing around his neck were doing a pretty good job of that too—to know something so insanely personal about the prince, something that set him apart from the rest of the Galra, and seemingly a reason why Lotor was so adamant in his past about proving his worth to Zarkon.

All of this information did nothing more than to invigorate the boiling anger in his veins at Zorak's words and taunts. Peeling one of his hands away from Zorak's own that was wrapped around his neck, Lance shook his arm, allowing for the carefully concealed spoon with the sharpened tip that he had kept hidden in his cell to slither down the bare skin of his arm. He had tucked it underneath his undersuit, careful to not cut himself with the sharpened end. There was no way he was going to leave it behind; he had a perfectly good secondary weapon and he didn't know when it would come in hand...until now of course.

Gripping the handle of the spoon tightly, Lance lashed out, the tip pointed toward the fleshy area of Zorak's neck, just like Lotor had shown him. Zorak merely smiled, gripping Lance's hand with his free own. Lance let out a strangled scream as Zorak squeezed, he could feel his hand throbbing from pain as the spoon slipped from his grip. "I should leave your dead body as a gift to that little prince," Zorak growled as his grip around Lance's neck tightened. "And in fact, I think I'm going to." Spluttering as his legs flailed wildly, his skin was starting to prickle as the edges of his mind fazed into a fuzzy string of nonsensical thoughts.

He was pretty certain he was going to die on this ship. Choked to death by a tyrannical, bloodthirsty general that wanted to fulfill a petty desire that harmed Lotor in some way. His lips parted, a gurgle of unintelligible sound tumbling from his lips as his lungs burned inside of his ribcage, desperate to pull in even a small bubble of oxygen.

Eyes watering, Lance could feel the tug of unconsciousness pulling at the edges of his mind. The corners of his vision going black as a single series of thoughts flashed behind his eyes. He wouldn't get to go home, he would never get to eat his abuelita's cooking, never experience the warm sand beneath his feet again. He would never be able to tuck his nose into the crook of his mother's neck and inhale her scent as she pulled him into a warm hug. Or watch his father on a sunny afternoon, slowly rocking in his chair on the front porch. A knife in one hand a bar of soap in the other as he set about carving the soap to bring out a natural beauty in it that he would give to Lance's mother once he was done. Then they would playfully argue about the soap carving; his mother desiring to display it, but his father insisting that she just put the soap in the bathroom so that it could be used because that was soap's natural purpose.

Lance hated this; hated this situation, hated everything about it. He couldn't do anything, couldn't fight back. He was weak and he hated himself for it.

He was beginning to fade into unconsciousness when the general slightly turned his head at the sound of sharp footsteps coming his way. There was a flash of a broadsword swinging through the air, neatly cutting through Zorak's neck. There was a spray of oxford blue colored blood that arced through the air, splashing across Lance's face and coating his features in the dark blood. Zorak's grip on Lance's neck loosened, causing Lance to fall to the floor; his butt smacked against the hard surface of the ship's floor as the blood continued to spray everywhere. Lance watched the decapitated head sail through the air before crashing down on the ship's floor where it continued to roll until it came to a stop. The mountainous body above Lance, swayed as it continued to spray blood everywhere, until it tipped to the side and came crashing down onto the floor with a resonating thud, revealing behind it the attacker who had severed Zorak's head from his body.

Lotor sneered in disgust at the copious amounts of blood covering the ship's wall and floor. He scowled, glancing down at the tip of his boot at the smear of blood that marred it.

Lance's eyes were wide as he stared at Lotor, who calmly wiped his blood-stained sword off on Zorak's body. "Why did you do that?"

Lotor shrugged as if him murdering another Galra before Lance's eyes was no different than him eating or breathing. "He was irritating me." Lotor's eyes flickered toward the Red Lion. "You should go."

Eyebrows pinching together, Lance frowned at Lotor...he was just...letting him go? Like that? Like he just didn't chop off Zorak's head in front of Lance? But he rose to his feet anyway, as a handful of Galra soldiers came running into the hangar bay; their guns trained on Lance, even as their eyes flickered to Zorak's decapitated body and then to Lotor's sword, still smeared with Zorak's blood. To Lance's utter surprise, they swiveled their guns so that it was trained on Lotor instead.

Lotor sighed, sounding weary of the entire situation. "To think we were all getting along so nicely."

A single cry rose from one of the guard's as he was lifted into the air by Zethrid. A low growl rumbled through her throat as she squeezed the guard's head, his metal helmet crunching beneath her fingers as she dug in. Blue blood oozed between her fingers as she pulled her arms apart, tearing the Galra soldiers clean in half, exposing his spinal column as it loosely hung in midair. Lance felt his throat close up as bile rushed up into the space. Turning his head to the side, he avoided looking at the body but could hear the _squelch_ of organs falling to the floor and of Zethrid tossing the body to the side.

She let out a savage yelp of glee as she tore through the rest of the soldiers, crushing their weapons as she tore through their bodies like they were nothing more than paper mache.

Taking in a shuddering breath, Lance turned his head back to face the scene. Blood, viscera, and more bodily parts that Lance didn't even want to identify littered the floor; Zethrid stood grinning in the middle of the carnage dripping from head to toe in blood. "See," Acxa came into the hangar bay, Narti and Ezor trailing behind her. She carefully eyed all of the carnage. "I told you that hangar bay looks a lot better with the new decorations."

Lotor gave her a roll of his eyes. An interaction that piqued Lance's interest even as Lotor gazed in his direction once more. "What are you waiting for? I'm pretty certain your fellow Paladins are waiting right outside for you."

Giving him a curt nod, Lance turned toward Red, scooped up his helmet and reattached it onto his body as he raced to the Lion. He didn't bother glancing back at Lotor, uncertain if someone or _something_ would keep him from getting onto his Lion and making a clean break off of the ship. Clambering into the cockpit seat, the Lion let out a deafening roar as all of her systems came online. The doors to the hangar bay slid open, creating a suctioning vacuum towards the dark glow of space. Lance's eyes flickered to a panel near the doors where Narti stood, her hand pressed against the glowing panel. She stared up at Lance as he silently stared down at her with stunned surprise. He nodded in her direction as the Lion crouched and took a leaping run toward the open hangar doors.

As he made it out into space, the hangar doors sliding shut behind him, he released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Lance." Shiro's voice crackled in Lance's ears. "Is everything alright?"

The blood was beginning to dry on his face—his own and Zorak's. "Yea, I just had a bit of trouble, but I'm fine."

"Prepare to go back to the castle, team. We're taking Lance home."

* * *

Pidge let out a whoop of joy as Lance waltzed into the bridge. She ran towards him and was about to hug him, but skidded to a halt a few feet away from him as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ugh, why do you smell like you were rolling around inside of a Weblum's stomach?"

Lance rolled his eyes as he reached up and pulled off of his helmet. Pidge pressed a single hand to her mouth as her cheeks puffed up and her skin took on a green hue.

"Dude!" Hunk rushed toward Lance, scooping him up in his arms and giving him a giant bear hug that smeared some of the dry blood against his own armor. Hunk frowned as he pushed Lance an arm's length away from him, his hands remaining on Lance's shoulders as he gave Lance a good look over. "Is this blood!?"

"It's kind of a long story," Lance responded as he nervously scratched the back of his head.

"Well, it's good to have you back with us, Lance." Shiro came over, patted Lance on the shoulder, but removed his hand and grimace at the smear of dried blood coating his hand. He grinned at Lance as he wiped his hand on the side of his undersuit.

"Yes, it's good to have you back." Allura agreed as she came to stand at Shiro's side. Her eyes were weary, dark circles clearly apparent beneath her eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept in a good while. "I'm sorry, Lance. For not being able to—"

Lance shook his head, cutting her off. "Don't beat yourself up. All that matters is that I'm back here and safe."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Allura nodded as her face slipped into a weary smile. Reaching out, she placed a hand on Lance's shoulder. "It's really good to have you back, Lance."

"Yea." Pidge smirked as she cupped her chin; her thumb resting against her cheek as she pointed her index finger out and curled the rest of her fingers in toward her palm. "It's really great to have you back. Which by the way, while you were gone, I deleted your save for your video game—"

"What!" Lance's eyes went wide as he contemplated throwing Pidge into the pool or bugging her for the rest of her life.

"—only so I could get you past that really difficult level that you hate."

Grinning from ear to ear, Lance reached out and ruffled Pidge's hair. "You're the best little nerd anyone could ask for."

Coran also welcome backed Lance. Coran was overjoyed with himself that Lance was back, indicative from the tears that were spilling onto him as Coran pulled him into a hug. Lance patted Coran on the back as Allura came over to the Altean's side and gently pried him from away from Lance.

Lance sighed as his eyes settled on Keith, who stared him down as his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." Lance bemoaned as he spread his arms out, his fingers fluttering to his palms in a come here motion, "come on. One free hug. Good for only the next 3 seconds."

Keith shook his head as he uncrossed his arms and made the few strides before he was standing in front of Lance. Reaching out, he squeezed Lance's shoulder, a small weary, smirk on his lips. "It's good to have you back, buddy."

Pidge shouted out that Lance should take a shower as Hunk rubbed his hands together and rumbled off about making a bunch of food since the food that Lance was eating while imprisoned probably didn't taste good. The two of their eyes started to twinkle as they turned to one another and shouted, "Party!"

They both glanced at Shiro who reluctantly relented.

After an hour long, hot shower where Lance had the ability to relax underneath the warm water, scrub all the dirt and grime off of his body and out of his hair. He went to the bridge where Pidge was challenging Hunk to see how many marshmallows—they weren't really like marshmallows, they had the consistency and taste of them, but were a bright shade of red—they could fit into their mouths. Lance found himself laughing for the first time in what seemed like years at their antics. The hours began to blend into one another as everyone focused on making Lance happy and laugh as they regaled story after story that happened during Lance's absence or kept him preoccupied with offering to play games from Coran's youth. It wasn't until Allura let out a yawn and Pidge could barely keep her eyes open that Shiro suggested that the party come to an end so that everyone could head to bed.

Lance bid everyone goodnight as he left and returned to his room. He sighed as he stepped into the space that he had called home for nearly a year at this point. Whistling lowly to himself as he collapsed on his bed. He wondered how his family back on Earth was doing. Threading fingers through his hair, he blinked in the darkness. He could barely go a few weeks without texting his sister or even talking to his mom or dad, so an entire year without communicating with them, especially after all he'd been through.

Lance didn't exactly realize he'd fallen asleep. Until he felt the heavy weight of sleep settle onto his limbs, causing him to sink further into the bed. His dreams were fairly normal; he dreamt of the sand beneath his feet or Kattlenecker in a long, white wig. He groaned in his sleep as beads of perspiration covered his skin as he dreamt of being strapped down again, of Zorak hovering over him with a sadistic grin on his features, of his screams as Zorak lifted up something that looked like a pressure cuff with nails embedded inside of it.

"This is going to hurt you, but I'll enjoy it." Zorak laughed as the pressure cuff got closer and closer to Lance's arm.

Lance screamed as he bolted upright in his bed. His hand flying to his throat as it tingled as if he had been strangled in his sleep by a ghost. He was shaking as his shirt clung to his skin, soaked through with sweat as he pulled his knees into his chest. Raking a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, Lance sighed, collapsing back into his bed. Staring up at his ceiling, Lance pressed a arm over his eyes as he wished that everything could go back to normal, but when the morning came—he knew this by Pidge knocking on his door and shouting to him that Hunk was making space bacon for breakfast—he realized that he couldn't go back to that blissful existence he lead before being captured.

Life had changed.

He'd changed.

And nothing from here on out would be normal anymore.

* * *

Lance was grateful for the next few days. The team hadn't gotten into a single bit of trouble; there were no fights for their lives, fights to save an entire planet or its people. There were no Galra to fight either. The only missions they seemed to get lately were helping old alien grandmother's with their groceries or delivering them to other planets. It was pretty peaceful—Lance suspected though, that the rest of the team was avoiding taking on actual missions for his sake. The entire team discovered that Pidge's brother, Matt, was alive when she contacted them as she traveled back to Olkarion. They all immediately welcome Matt into their fold, though Lance was a little bit annoyed with Matt flirting with Allura. Not necessarily in a jealous manner, he'd moved on from that when he got the hints that Allura didn't view him as anything but a friend. But if Matt did anything that made Allura uncomfortable, he was willing to push him out of an airlock.

After that, Lance spent most of his time playing his video game—he was really grateful for Pidge getting him past the water level that he hated—or on one occasion, showing Coran and Allura how to milk Kattelnecker. Lance nearly laughed as they backed out of the room; skins as pale as silkworms. Meanwhile, Hunk, Pidge, and Matt had taken the time to come up with a program that could track Galra fleet movements as well as hack into their communication feed.

Everyone was huddled up around the computer they were working on when it got pointed out that a bunch of Galra ships were converging on a pocket of space where there was no planet or anything of importance. Hunk suggested that they try tapping into the feed. Pidge tapped a few keys, pulling up a feed from one of the ships. "On Emperor Zarkon's orders, all ships are to converge—"

"Whoa, whoa! Zarkon's alive!?" Lance shook his head, there was a heavy sinking feeling in his gut that this mission wouldn't be a good one.

"It doesn't matter that he's alive." Shiro sighed. "We need to go to that coordinate and protect whomever or whatever Zarkon seems so desperate to have destroyed."

Pidge brought up that this was a good time to test out the cloaking feature she had been tinkering around with on her Lion.

Shiro ordered everyone to their Lions. It didn't take everyone long to put on their armor or get in their respective Lions and they were off into space. Lance was dead silent throughout the entirety of the journey until they arrived within some distance of the location. They formed Voltron and then had Pidge engage the cloaking device. They stayed some yards away from the ship that currently was being converged upon by a hoard of Galra ships. Two oddly shaped ships flew out of the hangar of the larger ship they were on before it burst into a large explosion and a column of flames.

"Is it just me or are those ships moving ridiculously fast!?" Pidge shouted as the ships flew past Voltron.

Lance focused on the ships and gasped as they moved past his eyesight; he only got a glimpse of the occupants of the ship, but it was enough for him to make out one of the pilots—

"Was that Lotor!?" Hunk's voice was loud in Lance's ears. It competed against the warning sounds blaring through his Lion.

"Pidge," there was a thread of worry in Shiro's usually calm voice, "what is that?"

"I don't know." Sounding frantic, even though his communicator, Lance could hear Pidge frantically working as the cloaking covering Voltron disappeared. "Lotor's ships did something to the ship's cloaking capability."

"Well, whatever it did. We're currently an open target for our enemies." Allura warned, causing everyone to focus on the Galra ships that were coming their way.

The battle was exhausting, but they managed to create an opening that allowed them to escape and retreat back to the castle ship. As they flew back, Pidge tapped into the Galra feed again and in a voice that sounded utterly shocked and battle-worn whispered, "Guys, you have to listen to this."

Pidge brought up the feed and played it through all of their Lions. Zarkon's voice brought a chill to Lance's spine as he sucked in a sharp breath as that intimate moment he had shared in the darkness with Lotor, in his cell, rang in his mind. _He told me that I was weak; merely a prince who sat atop a kingdom made of dust and broken bones. An heir to nothing._

"Attention citizens of the Galra Empire." Zarkon's voice rang through Lance's speakers; it was startlingly clear as if Zarkon was in his Lion himself. His grip on his controls tightened, till his knuckles were bone white. "From this day forward, my son, Lotor is to be regarded as a fugitive _criminal_ of the empire. All citizens are authorized to use deadly force to stop him or any of his soldiers. I repeat, Prince Lotor is an enemy of the state. Engage with extreme prejudice. Kill on site."

They made it back to the ship. Lance made his way to the bridge where everyone was talking about Zarkon's speech and Lotor. But Lance tuned them all out, lost to his own thoughts. At some point, they contacted the Blade of Mamora, since Keith and Kolivan were on the screen as Shiro relayed the information they just learned to the two of them.

Trying to steer his thoughts away from Lotor, Lance miserably failed at doing so. His stomach was twisting inside of him. Zarkon's speech sent a chill through him. It was bad enough that Lotor had had to been through this situation as a mere child, but now—

"Lance."

Lance looked up to see that everyone's eyes were trained on him. He swallowed. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Pidge narrowed her eyes at him. "You don't look too hot."

Lance shook his head. "I'll be fine. I just—" he didn't even bother to get the rest of the sentence out, before he was spinning on his heels and speed walked out of the room.

As the doors slid shut behind him, Lance could hear Hunk sigh. "Just what did Lotor do to him?"

Making it back to his room, Lance collapsed on his bed. His mind was running at a thousand miles per minute as he shut his eyes and was taken back to that single moment in time where Lotor's fingers had gently brushed against his broken arm. His touch warm, yet gentle while Lance sat there broken, defeated, and tired. The rush of thoughts after that one were like a symphony, each instrument competing for a solo—a chance to be heard amongst all the others. He thought of Lotor's unshed tears, of a Lotor that was as equally dangerous as he could be convincing when the moment called for it. Of a Lotor who possessed a cold sense of cruelty; one who would swing a sword at someone that was supposed to be called an ally due to a petty urge. But he also knew deep within him, that Lotor kept a part of himself buried. A part of himself that seemed to take pride in a heritage that others were so ready to beat down, to keep as a taunting reminder that Lotor would never rise to the likes of Zarkon or other Galra.

And yet….

Lance knew somehow that Lotor took what others saw as a weakness to be a source of strength.

Breathing softly through his nose, Lance rolled onto his side as his brain pulled up image after image of the moments he spent with Lotor, whether he was the one torturing him or not. He couldn't help when his brain decided to torture him with imagery of Lotor's lips twisting into an impassive smile. His own stomach was twisting inside of him as Lance pleaded with the universe for the sensation to fade away.

There was a warmth in his stomach that was broiling inside of him. A warmth that caused his skin to tingle. A tingle that made Lance want to cry, scream, curse, plead with whatever deity was listening in this part of the universe.

Instead, there was only silence.

And to Lance, that seemed so much worse as he curled up into a tiny little ball. His mind intent on ignoring the rush of complicated feelings whirling through him as he settled instead on wondering why and when his life had become so complicated.


	7. Sins of the Father Sins of the Son

**Trigger warnings: implied/referenced mentions of torture, PTSD**

* * *

Lance stepped out of his Lion on shaky legs and walked through the halls of the castle ship until he was on the bridge. The other Paladins filtered into the room, seemingly as worn as he was after their ordeal on Naxzela and the ensuing aftermath of everything else.

Coran pulled himself away from the castle controls as Allura came into view, raced toward her and hugged as he whispered to her about how he'd thought he'd never see her again, how foolish she and the Paladins had been, especially Keith—who'd just walked into the bridge as well—who'd been so ready a few moments ago to sacrifice his own life to save everyone else. Coran pulled himself away from Allura to jab a single finger in Keith's directions. The usual smile that was plastered across his face was long gone, instead replaced by a thin, tired line that made him look like more of a father than Shiro did at times. "What were you thinking?"

Keith looked rather annoyed at Coran, his lips flattening into a thin line as his brows pinched together. "I was making what I thought was the right decision."

Coran sighed, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "So the right decision, was for you to sacrifice your own life just to save everyone?"

"It was the best decision we had at the time!" Keith's voice raised a little in volume. He pointed a single finger at the wide expanse of space that existed outside. "Who knows what would have happened if Lotor didn't show up. We'd all be dead. So yea, my best decision at the time was me sacrificing myself to save everyone else. That's what a leader would have done."

Coran bristled at Keith's words. "That's not what a leader would have done!" Everyone's eyes widened at Coran's explosive words, though it mostly seemed to be Allura who looked the most disquieted at her advisor's sudden outburst. "That's not something Shiro would have done or even Alfor himself. Sacrificing yourself for the greater good isn't a mark of a leader; surviving and fighting with all that you have is." Coran's voice trailed softly at the end, making Keith's stubborn headed stare soften as the weight of Coran's words settled upon his shoulders.

"Coran. I'm sorry."

Sighing, Coran shook his head. "It's fine." He paused, taking the few strides it took to reach Keith before he was standing in front of him. Reaching out, he placed a hand on Keith's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "Just don't make us worry like that again."

"So," Pidge spoke up, "since we've got Keith's issues out of the way. What do we do about Lotor?"

* * *

Everyone was waiting in the hangar. Lance could see the tense lines in Allura's back and the firm stance Shiro was taking as Lotor slowly exited his ship. He made his way over to the Paladins and barely let out an utter of surprise or even a sharp raise of his brow as the Bayard in both Allura and Pidges hands transformed into whips that they used to restrain Lotor's arms to his side.

"Really, princess?" Lotor sighed. "I come in peace."

Allura's brows were pinched together as she tugged on her Bayard, causing the restraints around Lotor to tighten a little bit. "Forgive me, but you haven't exactly given me much reason before this to believe your lies."

Eyes slipping shut for a few brief moments, Lotor pointedly stared at Allura. "Lies? Princess, must I remind you, if I hadn't been here you and your allies would be nothing more than particles floating in space. Yet, you stand here, alive and well thanks to my intervention."

"Your intervention?" Pidge growled out, her eyes a shade darker from her anger. "Your intervention is the sole reason why Lance got kidnapped from us, taken hostage, and had horrible things done to. "

Lance stilled as Lotor's gaze settled upon him. When he opened his mouth, it felt as if he was speaking solely to Lance and only to him. "I will...admit my kidnapping of the Blue Paladin seems to have…caused you all some strife. But don't let a past action that you only have a limited understanding of, cloud this moment."

"And why shouldn't we!?" Allura shouted. "After all you're Zarkon's son!"

It was only a small fraction of the moment, but Lance frowned as a flash of pain burned in Lotor's eyes, the corner of his lip quirking downward. It didn't last long before his practiced mask was slipped back onto his face. Lance couldn't have felt worse than he did in this singular moment. His grip on his Bayard slackened slightly as he lifted a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat quite loudly which caused everyone's attention to focus on him.

A single brow on Lotor's face slightly rose by half an inch in intrigue.

"Shouldn't we….y'know," Lance rolled his wrist in a vague gesture, "listen to him?"

"Listen to him?" Lance turned his head to see that it was Keith who spoke up. "Listen to him? Lance are you absolutely insane!?"

"Wait." Shiro held out a single hand, motioning for the all of the Paladins to quiet down. "Lance has a point. Lotor didn't have to come and save us, but he did—"

Allura looked absolutely shocked at Shiro's words. "Shiro—"

Shiro cut her off with a single, sharp glare. Causing her to pout slightly. "—And for that reason, I think we should at least toss him in the brig, see what he has to say, and decide where to go from there."

Everyone—including Coran and Matt—looked shocked. Lance let out a small sigh of relief as a plethora of voices rose up in displeasure at Shiro's decision. "Enough!" Shiro shouted, causing the sea of displeasure to quell and fade. "I've made my decision and that's final."

Shiro ordered that Lotor get moved to the brig. As Allura and Pidge led him out of the hangar and to the brig. Lance turned to leave the room but found Hunk standing in front of him.

"Lance, are you...okay?" Hunk frowned as he studied his friend.

"What?" Letting out an egregious laugh as if Hunk had said the funniest thing in the universe. "I've never been better. Why are you asking?"

Hunk shrugged his shoulders. "You were making weird faces at Lotor. I thought something was wrong."

Forcing a smile onto his face, Lance felt a little guilty, lying to his friend. "I could never be better."

* * *

Days passed by and Lotor proved to be a great source of information for the coalition. He fed them sensitive information about the Galra Empire that neither Voltron, the Blade of Mamora, nor the coalition knew about. Fleet movements, transportation routes, when certain high profile meetings would be taking place. Each intel Lotor gave them always turned out to be true as well.

But it didn't mean that this existence wasn't insipid for him. Lotor sighed through his nose, his nostrils flaring at the movement as he spent yet another day counting the seconds away in his cell. When he was first thrown in here, he spent a few minutes combing through the rather adequate cell. There were no weapons meant to kill him in his sleep—not that he got much of it anyway; he'd had the awful lesson of once learning that it was best to only get a few vargas of sleep, especially when he was in the presence of those who were wary of him...or wanted to kill him. There were no hidden recording devices either. The cell was bare, save for a single bed on a round platform; although there was a small panel that transformed into a toilet when he needed it.

Lotor sighed. This situation wasn't the ideal outcome he was hoping for, but it was better than what he had expected. He had proposed that the Paladins would have killed him onsite or worse thrown him into Zarkon's open arms. For a moment, he thought that singular outcome would have become a reality for him when the Paladins squabbled among one another about his fate, only for the Blue Paladin to speak up on his behalf.

The Blue Paladin.

Shutting his eyes, Lotor could vividly see the Blue Paladin's face in his mind. Sharp features, blue eyes that yet like a gentle, blue sea also had the ability to become a raging storm. A subtle shift, nonetheless, Lotor could picture those blues eyes transforming from a gentle, friendly fire to a blazing hearth full of a smothering, fury that would consume all those who stood before it. He couldn't a finger on it, but Lotor would never admit that he found the Blue Paladin...intriguing. But he didn't have time to spend thinking about him, not locked up in this cell where his only interaction came from relaying his limited scope of information to the Black Paladin and the princess; the others treated him with a sense of distrust. He sensed it even confined to this cell, curiously the Blue Paladin had always been absent from these meetings they held where they grilled him relentlessly for all the paltry information he could cough up. And when that limited scope of information ended, he would no longer hold any use to them.

But for now, Lotor supposed this situation couldn't be too bad—he'd been through much worse—he got three square meals a day, delivered to him by the princess' advisor. Although he isn't allowed out of his cell, the Paladins haven't threatened to torture him or throw him into space...yet.

He supposed that the treatment was fair. It was what he deserved after all, especially after all he'd done. Sighing, rather audibly; the noise bouncing off of the walls, Lotor couldn't help but reflect on his downfall that brought him here in the first place.

It still pained him, even if he would never admit it. Narti's face was like a sore wound in his heart. It still pained him to think about the moment when his base had come under attack; a location that no one should have known about as it housed the Sincline ships. A location that only he and his generals' were privy to know about. But when they got attacked, he knew something was wrong...something had to be wrong and it wasn't until he turned and saw Narti that he had put two and two together.

His closest general; one who could neither see nor speak, a perfect mole for Haggar's own manipulation since no one would have paid attention to Narti. After all, she seemed harmless. A Galra hybrid who seemed defenseless and used a cat as her eyes and whose only means of communication were whatever she telepathically relayed or the small body movements that she gave that Lotor, Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid had become accustomed to after spending years in close proximity with one another.

It pained him, even more, to realize that he couldn't place when his closest general—his closest friend—had become a mere pawn to Haggar. Had it been the moment he was banished from the empire? Or long before that? Then and there, his only option had been to eliminate Narti. As much as his body had quivered as he ran toward her, unsheathing his blade in the blink of an eye before he had struck her down to the shock and utter horror of his other generals. He had seen no other path to take. If he had left Narti alive, the witch would have easily sent her after him or the entire empire at her disposal.

Lotor snorted as he remembered his current predicament.

Either way, it didn't matter much now. He was a fugitive. Zarkon had made sure of that. Wherever he went, he could never rest easily and it only made him furious to wonder how much that witch had a hand in his current situation.

But he had himself to blame.

He was the one who chose to kill Narti. The one who chose to keep a secret as to why he killed her from the rest of his generals. His silence had been what lead to their betrayal. A betrayal that cut him to his core and hurt as much as when he awoke, found himself handcuffed, and being taken back to the empire.

Breathing deeply in an effort to quash the tumultuous feelings brewing inside of him. He was hardly surprised to hear the ding of the elevator at the end of the long walkway that lead to his single cell. It a few vargas since he gave the Black Paladin and princess any information, so he was hardly surprised that they would be back down for more. Opening his eyes, Lotor lifted his head. Who he saw instead, caused a flicker of surprise to burn in his eyes.

He couldn't help himself as the corner of his lips twitched into a smirk.

"I suppose this pleasure is mine...Blue Paladin."

* * *

The sound of his video game filled the entirety of the room. The bright lights from the screen hurt Lance's eyes. He groaned as he paused the game, tossed down the controller, and rubbed at his weary eyes.

He didn't know how long he'd been playing the video game for, but he'd been using it lately as a means of having something to do when he found he couldn't fall asleep due to the nightmares. And right now, he needed to distract himself from the fact that Lotor was just a few levels below him in a cell. And it was working…for a while.

Lance groaned as he flopped onto his back and tried desperately to not think about Lotor, but that proved futile as his brain decided it would be a good hour to betray him. He was still beating himself up for even speaking up for Lotor. He'd thought he'd done the right thing. Everyone else was ganging up on Lotor, ready to throw him out to the proverbial space wolves without giving him a chance to tell his side of the story.

He couldn't let that happen. It made him shudder to think about what could have potentially happened to Lotor if they tossed him back out into space just so he would fall into Zarkon's clutches. None of the thoughts his brain churned out were things he wished to dwell on for more than a second. Suddenly sitting up, he was peeved at his mental train for chugging along a set of tracks he wished it hadn't gone onto.

He couldn't decide who he was more pissed at. Lotor for being so unreadable—why come to them? Yes, they were the biggest threat against Zarkon and the empire, but Lotor knew better than anyone else that his relationship right now with Voltron, the empire, pretty much anyone in the universe besides his generals was like taking a vacation to Death Valley without so much as a bottle of water. Or his teammates, who were more than ready to act like the villains in the situation.

He didn't have too much time to dwell on these thoughts as there was a rapid series of knocks against his door. He got up to answer it, but the door slid open, revealing Pidge on the other side and a stream of bright hallway light that had Lance throwing up his arm in an attempt to shield his eyes.

Pidge merely squinted at him, her lips puckered together as she looked like she wanted to make a joke about Lance being a space vampire or something else. But she suppressed her desires to do so and merely informed him about the urgent message that had brought her to his door. "There's an emergency. Allura's summoning everyone to the bridge."

"Woah." Lance's brows pinched together as he quickly fluttered around his room, shucking off his robe as he searched for his clothes that weren't his pajamas. He unbuttoned his top, but paused midway and turned around to see that Pidge was still watching him. "A little privacy?"

Rolling her eyes, Pidge turned away from him. "You do realize I've grown up with a brother since I was born, right? It's not like I haven't seen anything before."

"Yea, but we're not—" Lance trailed off as he finished unbuttoning his top and grabbed his shirt.

"Related?" Pidge scoffed. "Geneticists everywhere quiver in their shoes at the fact that we don't share an ounce of familial DNA. But that doesn't discount the fact that I consider you a brother."

Lance snorted as he finished getting dressed. "You can turn around now." Pidge turned around and gave him a low whistle.

"Nice transformation. I wouldn't even know that on the inside you're a cave-dwelling hobgoblin."

Giving her a roll of his eyes, he walked over to her, reached out, and pulled her into a hug. She squirmed in the embraced, wrinkled up her nose, and groaned about how much he smelt like a teenage boy. Which caused Lance to give her a pointed look. "I'm still technically a teenage boy." Pidge stuck her tongue out at him as she slipped out of his grasp.

"Not as of today." There was an impish grin stretching across her face as she punched Lance in the arm. He made a face as if it hurt—it really didn't, but he liked seeing her happy when she thought that her punches weren't the equivalent of a kitten lightly smacking someone on the arm. "On Earth, it's July 28th, so happy birthday, Lance. You're officially an old man. What's it like being so old? How's cataracts and arthritis?"

Laughing softly, Lance just reached out and ruffled her hair, much to her protest. He was officially 18, huh, that means he'd been in space for nearly a year. He tried not to let the sadness well up and seep into his veins and instead focused on what Pidge had originally come to retrieve him for. "So, why's Allura calling an emergency meeting?"

Pidge shrugged her shoulders as she began to walk away. "She wouldn't say."

Lance didn't have a good feeling about this as he followed after her.

They made their way to the bridge and Allura's grim face didn't bode as a good sign to Lance.

"What's going on?" Matt asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

Shiro gave a quick glance to Allura and Coran, before addressing everyone. "We have an incoming transmission...from Zarkon."

"Zarkon!?" Hunk's brows couldn't have possibly gone up higher into his hairline. "Like _the_ Zarkon? Emperor of the empire?" He narrowed his eyes. "Are we sure this isn't an imposter or something?"

Nodding gravely, Allura couldn't help the look of despair coloring her face. "Unfortunately. It is."

"Well," Keith looked absolutely displeased, "what does he want?"

"We're going to find out." Shiro turned to Coran and gave him a nod. The Altean's fingers flew across the panel in front of him before a holographic screen of Zarkon's face appeared before them all.

"Paladins of Voltron."

"Zarkon," Allura hissed in disgust, "what do you want?"

"A trade. My son for something that you all want."

Allura frowned at his words. "And what is it that we want?"

Zarkon snapped his fingers, Acxa and Zethrid stepped into sight, carrying a middle-aged man—who was a few inches taller than Matt—there was a thick beard gracing his jaw.

"Dad!" Pidge and Matt shouted in unison. Turning his head, Lance could see there were tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Sam Holt for my son. There are to be no negotiations, no bargains. Accept the deal as it is."

"And what if we don't?" Allura was tense as she settled her steely gaze on Zarkon, who simply narrowed at her.

"You won't." The transmission ended there, leaving everyone in the room in a hushed silence.

Lance ran a hand through his locks, trying to process everything that he just saw. Lotor's generals seemingly now worked for Zarkon, which a box he didn't think he was ready to unpack and dump into Lotor's lap with a million other questions.

Sighing, Allura turned to face everyone. "Get some rest. We'll regroup in a few vargas to think Zarkon's deal over."

Everyone began to disperse from the room to wallow in whatever feelings were stirring in them silently. But Lance had other plans.

Speeding out of the room, Lance made his way to the elevator, the doors sliding shut in front of him as he jabbed his index finger at a single button. The elevator lurched as it began its descent down into the depths of the ship. Coming to a stop, Lance exited the elevator and paused; trepidation weighing heavily in the hollow of his throat, shaking his head, he psyched himself up. Deciding that _he_ at least deserved to know about the deal Zarkon had tossed onto the proverbial table. Plus he needed answers to a few questions that he had.

It gave him the courage he needed to continue his walk until he was standing directly in front of the cell. Lotor's eyes were closed and his head was tipped back, but they slipped open as a small smirk tugged at the corners of Lotor's lips as he saw that it was him. There was a curious light burning in his eyes that made Lance wish he had a coat on to cover himself with. It felt like he was being picked apart and examined.

Lance steeled his nerves as Lotor's lips parted and he breathed out a single sentence.

"I suppose this pleasure is mine...Blue Paladin."

* * *

Lotor was amused as he watched the Blue Paladin pace in front of his cell. He was cupping his chin with a hand, his brows pinched together, and his lips twisted in a line of agitation and worry.

"Do the other Paladins know that you're down here?"

Lance stopped in his tracks, swiveled his head in Lotor's direction, said nothing, and resumed his pacing. From his lack of response, Lotor inferred that the other Paladins didn't know that their beloved teammate was down here.

"Zarkon's trying to trade you for Holt."

Lotor drew in a single breath. Well…wasn't that splendid.

Raising a single brow, Lotor cocked his head to the side, not quite understanding why Zarkon wanted to exchange him for a man he knew nothing about. Lance, seemingly understanding that Lotor wouldn't know who Holt was answered his unanswered question for him. "He's Pidge's father." Lotor's brow was still raised. "The Green Paladin?"

Letting out a sigh of understanding, Lotor gave him a small shrug of his shoulders. "Truth be told, I would do the same thing."

Lance paused yet again, his brows furrowing deeper together. "Yea, but...it's not a good trade."

"Why isn't it? The rest of your teammates clearly don't like me, some of them, in fact, look like they wish to murder me. In fact, it's vital for the Green Paladin to get her father back, whereas, I hold no importance to the Paladins of Voltron."

"You give us key information about Gara routes and fleet movements."

There was a soft chuckle in the hollow of Lotor's throat. "Key information that I wouldn't doubt that your Green and Yellow Paladin couldn't figure out a method of obtaining."

Lance frowned at that, his arms falling to his sides, as he turned to face Lotor. "Why are you devaluing yourself?"

Shrugging, Lotor kept his gaze centered on Lance. "It's simply the truth. My life is of no importance to the princess or the rest of you Paladins, except for the limited information I can give you. Once my importance is done, who's to say that it isn't simply beneficial to get rid of me altogether."

"But you matter to your generals." Lance's frown deepened as he remembered Acxa and Zethrid appearing on screen as they tugged Holt along. "What happened between you and them? They were seemingly working with Zarkon and...you're here. So what happened?"

Brows rising, Lance felt his entire body tense as Lotor rose from his bed and made came close to the edge of his cell. He was looking down at Lance, who was a few inches smaller than him. Lance didn't know what was wrong, but he could sense Lotor's mask settling heavily onto his face. His blue eyes narrowed, the usual fire of curiosity and amusement in them smothered and instead replaced with a cold, sheet of ice that reeked of a practiced authority that allowed for no chinks to be made in Lotor's armor.

Lance shivered instinctively at the cold, indifferentness Lotor was projecting. He tried to steel himself for whatever was coming, but nothing he did could have prepared him for Lotor's next words.

"Because," Lotor whispered, "I killed one of them."

Lance took a step back, his eyes blinking rapidly in surprise as he shook, his limbs feeling as if he'd been doused with a bucket of ice water. He didn't hear the pair of footsteps behind him.

"Lance?"

Swiveling on his feet, Lance turned and to his utter surprise found Allura and Shiro behind him. Distrust immediately overshadowed the confusion on her face as her eyes darted between Lance and Lotor. "Lance, did he harm you?"

Lance's lips parted as he was prepared to tell Allura that wasn't the case, but a sharp laugh drew everyone's attention to Lotor. "Princess, if I wanted to harm the Blue Paladin. I would have come up with a method to break free of my bonds and done so."

Allura looked as if she wished to tear him out of his cell and punch him. But she simply frowned and turned her attention back to Lance. "There's a meeting on the bridge." Without much more to say, she turned and stalked back to the elevator, leaving Shiro where he stood.

He'd been unusually silent the entire time. But stared at Lance, his gaze then darting to Lotor and back. He said nothing as he turned and followed after Allura.

Lance let out a long, weary sigh as he turned to follow after the both of them, but paused mid-step.

"Lance."

"What?" Lotor's brows pinched together as Lance turned on his feet to stare at him.

"Lance. It's my name. You don't have to call me the Blue Paladin. You can just use my name." Lance didn't stick around, instead, he made his way to the elevator without sparing a glance behind him.

Lotor watched him as he departed; as the elevator climbed toward the upper levels of the ship and Lance disappeared from his sight. He couldn't help the unbidden smile that stretched across his face as he repeated Lance's name silently to himself; how he enjoyed the way it weighed nicely on the tip of his tongue.

* * *

To Lance's utter expectation the bridge was embroiled in an argument when he walked in. As everyone argued about what to do; whether they should accept Zarkon's deal or not.

"So what!" Pidge shouted as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I say we give him Lotor. One less threat to Zarkon. One less threat to us." There were some mumbled agreements at that sentiment that had Lance drawing in a hissed breath.

There were times he wouldn't have even dreamed about being the dissenting opinion. Even if the actions and choices that the rest of his teammates made bugged or annoyed him.

"So, what you're saying is that we get on the same level as Zarkon?" All eyes narrowed at him.

"Lance," Keith frowned at him. "This is Pidge and Matt's father we're talking about. Zarkon is willing to give him to us in exchange for Lotor. What's one innocent life versus Zarkon's son?"

Incredulously scoffing, Lance glared at Keith. "Do you even hear yourself right now? Isn't our duty as Paladins of Voltron to protect everyone in the universe, to protect and promote peace. Not stoop to the same level as Zarkon."

"Lance." Allura paused, her eyes pointed toward the ground as she searched for the right words to say. "We have to accept the deal; you heard Zarkon. It's his terms and only his. There's no room for negotiations. I don't like trusting the Galra, but this may be our only option to get Sam Holt back."

Lance's eyes narrowed at her choice of words. There was a harsh edge to his words; as sharp as a knife as he whispered out. "Ok, I get it." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "So you don't like trusting the Galra unless they happen to be Keith or the Blade of Mamora."

Letting out a nervous laugh, Hunk quickly stepped in between a shocked and hurt Allura and Lance who glared disapprovingly at her. "Lance, you know that's not what Allura meant."

Lance turned his glare against Hunk. "Then what did she mean? That Lotor isn't trustworthy despite freely giving us a bunch of information already? Or because everyone on this ship is afraid that he's going to be Zarkon 2.0 because he didn't get the ability to pick who his dad was?"

"So, what!?" Keith shouted, despite Pidge reaching out to tug on one of Keith's arms. He looked about ready to vault across the room, get up in Lance's face and have a screaming match with him. "Why are you defending him now!? Why are you so, dead set on defending him when he's the one who kidnapped and tortured you!? Or have you forgot about that?"

Not even bothering to dignify him with a response, Lance instead observed everyone. _Truly_ observed them and realized that his teammates—his closest friends—were more than willing to play judge, jury, and executioner at this moment. He realized it was fruitless to even argue on Lotor's behalf. They'd all already made their minds up the second Zarkon had offered them the deal in the first place.

Lance scoffed, even as Keith continued to talk. Continued to lash out with words that burrowed themselves underneath Lance's skin. "You've changed, Lance. Ever since you've been back, you've changed." Lance's fingers curled inward to his palms. He bit down on his lower lip to keep himself from shouting. He was building a dam to contain the rage and anger that was boiling inside of him. "You're not the old Lance anymore," Keith continued, "I don't even know who you are anymore."

The dam broke.

"I'm not normal anymore, Keith!" The words came tumbling out of Lance; his shout a lion's roar that drowned out everyone else. "I haven't been normal since I got back! I haven't slept in _days_! Because every time I shut my eyes, I think I'm back on that ship again! I think I'm back in that torture room again, strapped down to a table, but no I'm back in my bed, where I wake up every single night covered in my own sweat and tears."

"Lance," Hunk whispered his name, he made a step toward Lance, but stopped, his lips twisting into a frown as he considered whether it was a right decision to hug him at this moment.

"No!" Lance shouted. "You guys want to pretend that Lotor is just like Zarkon. He's not."

Allura shook her head as if she couldn't believe Lance was defending Lotor to them all. "Lance, you're confused. You're conflicted. _Lotor tortured you_."

Letting out a bitter snort, removed his jacket as he continued to talk. "Yea, he did, but what Zorak did to me was way worse." A gasp tore itself from Allura's lips as she took a step back, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Hunk and Pidge paled, Coran looked flabbergasted as he stared at Lance's skin, Matt's gaze was steely as if the faint dots lining Lance's skin wasn't the worse he'd ever seen. And Shiro...Shiro looked like he wasn't trying to relive whatever it was the Galra had done to him.

But everyone stared. They stared at the faint circular marks on Lance's arms from the torture Zorak had inflicted on him. The medical salve Lance had smeared onto his skin had left behind unblemished skin the first couple of times that he had used it, but the more frequent the torture became and creative, the more scars it had left behind on his skin. The small circular puncture wounds on his arms had left behind scars that while faint, were still apparent on his skin. They'd be there for a while as they slowly faded away, but long enough that Lance's memories wouldn't be the only reminder of what he'd endured. He didn't need the team to know that there were scars on his torso that he didn't want them to see.

Coran was the only voice that cut through the silence. "Zorak?"

"Yea," Lance mumbled, "he got sent to the ship after Lotor couldn't pull any information out of me. These aren't even the worst of the wounds anyway...there were some that were much worse, but Lotor gave me a medicinal salve that healed them."

And there it was again, that mention of Lotor's name that had Allura frowning, her hands slipping away from her mouth as she went back to accusing him again. "He must have had ulterior motives. Lotor's not... _generous_ like that."

Lance sighed audibly through his nose. "He's complicated, but that doesn't make him a carbon copy of Zarkon."

Keith shook his head, his own stubbornness like a trunk of a tree. Unyielding and bowing to no element that came his way. "Then, Lotor must have done something mentally to you. Do you realize, you're defending a monster, Lance?"

Unable to help the bitter laughter that wormed its way out of his chest. "Lotor, a monster? Keith, you don't know what a monster is. I _do_. And Zorak was the biggest monster of them all."

"Lance—" Keith growled out, but Lance cut him off.

"Just stop, Keith! Just stop and listen to me for once! I want all of you to stop pretending like everything is normal; that everything is back to the way it was before because it's not. _I'm not_! " He couldn't help the fat, searing droplet of tears that were rolling down his cheeks; obscuring his vision so that it was becoming blurry to see. He reached up and tried to rub his tears away, but they still spilled down his cheeks. "Stop trying to pretend that I'm back to being normal because I'm not." He was so tired; so mentally tired that he wanted to lie down and never get back up. "And I'm never going to be. Do you know what happened on that ship? I broke. I _broke_. I thought I would never come back to this ship. I thought I would never get to see my family again. Never get to see you guys again. And the only thing that kept me going was when Lotor told me you guys were coming to rescue me."

There was a wave of shock that gripped the room at Lance's revelation. But Lance knew that the judgment had already been passed when Allura softly sighed and gave a small shake of her head. "I'm sorry, Lance, but this has to be done."

He was more than mentally tired and done with everything as he turned on his heels and started to walk out of the room, not without saying one final thing. "Sure, just keep telling yourself that."

Lance had nearly made it to his room when he heard someone shouting his name from behind him. He turned and saw that it was Shiro who let out a deep breath as he skidded toward Lance.

"What do you want, Shiro?" Lance sounded incensed as he crossed his arms.

Shiro looked a little surprised at Lance's tone, but considering all that had just happened, he wasn't _that_ surprised. Instead, he did something that Lance found surprising. He reached out and pulled Lance into a hug. Lance found himself stiffening at the contact for the first few seconds, but he melted into it as he pressed his face into Shiro's shoulder. "I'm here...if you need anyone to talk to about...what you went through."

"I know," Lance whispered, "but I think I just want to be alone for a bit." He could feel Shiro nod as he pulled away from him.

"Everything's going to be okay," Shiro told him, before nodding at Lance and walking away.

Lance sure hoped it would be, but he didn't exactly have a good feeling in his gut about it.

* * *

He was pissed. More than pissed. Beyond pissed. Whatever Lance was feeling, he was nowhere close to being happy as he flew over the planet, his eyes raking over the sandy planes as he searched for Lotor and Zarkon.

"Does anyone see them?" Hunk's voice crackled in his ear as Lance bit down on the tip of his tongue to keep himself from cursing out Shiro in whatever language decided to come out of his mouth.

He'd been pissed for the last few days about this entire deal with Zarkon. About how his friends could so easily become the very thing they preached against, how Lotor devalued himself as a person, how earlier in the day they'd all gone down to Lotor's cell to tell him that they'd be wrapping him a bow and handing him over to Zarkon, where he'd simply rehashed everything Lotor had pointed out, and now it had come to everyone's attention that Shiro had given Lotor his Bayard.

So yea, Lance was definitely beyond pissed.

"No," Allura's voice rumbled in his ears, "I don't see them."

Lance's eyes narrowed at a plume of smoke that was some distance away. It was thick and obscuring and made it difficult to see, but he tapped a few keys and brought up the scoping camera on his lion. The smoke began to settle and it allowed Lance to see Lotor's back pressed up against a sizeable rock formation that a giant gaping hole in it. He watched as Lotor crumbled to the ground and Zarkon stood before him, a giant gun connected to the arm of his armor as he pointed the muzzle at Lotor and prepared to fire it.

"No," Lance harshly whispered as he shouted to the other Paladins that he had found the two of them. Lance was grateful that Red had a bit of kick to him as he raced past the other Lions and shot at Zarkon, the other Lions catching up to him as they shot at Zarkon as well, kicking up a ton of dust and debris that obscured their vision of Zarkon.

A bright orb of purple light cut through the dust as it settled away and revealed that Zarkon had his weapon trained on them. Lance tuned out the volley of curses that were falling from Hunk's lips as Shiro ordered that they all retreat as quickly as they could. Instead, Lance's eyes were trained on Lotor as quickly pushed himself to his feet and grabbed a piece of metal that had fallen off of the crashed ship beside him. The boosters built into his armor flashed as he flew across the field and everything went a dazzling shade of purple for a few moments as Lance threw a single arm in front of his eyes and he heard the other Paladins groaning in his ears. But when Lance pulled his arm away, his mouth fell open in shock as he watched the light fade from Zarkon's armor and Lance stare up at them as the sun on this planet rose, casting Lotor's outline in a halo of golden-orange light.

"Alright, we need to pick up Lotor, head back to the castle and fly to a safe planet."

Hunk began to speak, "I'll pick him u—"

"No," Lance interrupted as he kept his eyes trained on Lotor. He was now looking down at Zarkon's lifeless body. His disheveled hair obscuring his face. "I'll do it."

"Lance," Allura treated his name like it the stepping stone for an argument, but Shiro's voice cut through any possibility of that happening.

"Lance, pick up Lotor and meet us back at the castle."

Mumbling his confirmation at the orders, Lance kept his eyes trained on Lotor as he flew Red in close, landed him, and got out of the Lion so that he could look up at the sky and see the retreating forms of Hunk and Allura's Lions as well as the ship holding Sam Holt, his kids, and Shiro. Turning his gaze away from the retreating forms, Lance instead fixed it on Lotor's curled up fist. He could see the slight shake of it, could see the taught lines in Lotor's back. And Lance didn't know what to say to him. _I'm sorry Zarkon was an abusive piece of shit who ordered an entire empire to murder you_ wouldn't cut it. Nothing would ever cut it because Lotor had 10,000 years of built up pain brewing inside of him like a stew someone forgot to take off of the stove. No matter what Lance could possibly come up with, he couldn't erase eons of hurt and pain with a few single words or carefully constructed sentence.

Nothing would.

Even if Lotor managed to get rid of some of the pain, the scars were already there and would be there.

"What do you want to do with his body?" Lance jerked his chin at Zarkon's lifeless form. A move that finally got Lotor to glance at him. His eyes seemed as lifeless as Zarkon's body.

Taking a deep breath, Lotor paused, his eyes slipping shut again as he wrestled with the emotions inside of him. "We should bury him." His voice was soft, barely even anything above a whisper. But Lance nodded anyway and gently told Lotor that he would go back aboard Red, see if there was anything that could be used to dig a hole. Going back into Red, Lance searched the cockpit, cabin, and storage room on the Lion for anything that was similar or the equivalent to a shovel. He eventually found a small tube with a small switch on it, which when pressed transformed into something that reminded him of a spade.

He supposed it would have to make do.

Making his way out of the Lion and back to Lotor's side, Lance held out the slim tube. "This is all I could find."

Lotor stared at it; the face of a wounded man that was trying desperately to not crumble underneath the pressure of having murdered Zarkon—his abuser; his father.

Clearing his throat, Lance glanced at the tube. "I can do this if you don't feel—"

Lotor gave a soft shake of his head. "No. This is my duty and mine alone." Lance held out the tube, which Lotor gratefully took from him.

They settled into a lulled silence as Lotor began to dig a hole in the hard-packed earth below their feet. Dropping to his knees, Lance used his hands to scoop up any loose dirt that fell back into the hole. He didn't know how long the two of them were there for, but the sun was high in the sky, sweat dripping from their skin when they finally rose and looked at their handiwork. There was a decent sized hole in the ground, one that wasn't six feet under, but big enough that they could put Zarkon in it and prevent his body from being used as a snack for any natural predators that existed on the planet.

They both moved toward Zarkon's body. Lotor paused as he stared at the lifeless form and for a second made Lance think that he was going to break down right in front of him. But he took another deep breath to ground himself and instead, bent down and started to drag Zarkon toward the freshly dug hole. They buried him and Lance groaned as he stood up, dirt smudging a single cheek. Low on the horizon, the sun was merely half of a dark golden blob in the sky.

Lotor's head was bowed over the makeshift grave and Lance watched as his shoulders slightly shook. "We have to get back," Lance suggested softly, only earning a nod from Lotor.

They walked back to the Lion, Lotor silently standing behind Lance's seat as they took off into the air and made their journey back to the castle ship. When they finally got back to the castle, Allura was surprisingly waiting for them both.

She avoided Lance's gaze—their relationship had been...tense since Lance's outburst a few days ago. Their relationship was a wine glass that had a spider web of cracks running along it. You didn't know when it would shatter into pieces completely, but you knew that it was broken. She focused on Lotor, her gaze a mixture of slightly embarrassed and sheepish. "Lotor, could we talk?"

Lotor nodded, giving Lance a quick glance before he walked away with Allura. Lance, pursed his lips, staring at their retreating backs as they disappeared into the hallway of the castle. Removing his helmet, Lance stared forlornly at the closed doors. He didn't want to attach a feeling to it, but they shared something back there in that lulled quietness, the way they'd share quiet moments like that when Lance was a hostage.

He didn't know what it quite meant, but Lance knew that he'd been allowed to see more sides of Lotor than anyone besides his generals had seen.

* * *

Lotor's head was bowed, his fingers laced together as he stared down at his feet from the steps he sat on in the bridge. Allura stood in front of him, her back turned toward him and her arms crossed in front of her chest. She was uncomfortable around him, that much was plain to see.

She'd hardly spoken a word to him since they walked into the bridge He was still covered in dirt and sweat from having buried his father just a few vargas before. He let out a snort, an action that had Allura turning her head at the sound and narrowing her eyes slightly at him, before turning her head away to avoid his gaze.

He couldn't believe that he'd finally done something he dreamed about doing for centuries. He'd slain his own father with his hands. Lotor glanced down at them, half expecting to see them coated in his own father's blood, but they were clean and bare, save for the smudges of dirt on his hands. He felt numb to everything; numb to the fact that Zarkon was truly dead, numb to the fact that right now news of his death would be racing through the empire, racing through distant planets that were overjoyed that their biggest oppressor was no longer breathing. Most of all, he was numb to the turbulent emotions that broiled within him. He was glad Zarkon was dead, but part of him felt guilty for his actions as well. Something he'd felt sparks and glimmers of before, but he chose to never dwell too long on. Sighing, he could feel the castle slightly lurch as it began its descent down to the planet Olkarion. A safe haven planet that the red-haired Altean had casually mentioned to him was a planet that was part of the Coalition and would be a good place to hide and recoup their energy before deciding what to do next.

Though Lotor wasn't sure if that information was for his benefit or a means of cutting through the awkward silence that filled the bridge.

"Coran, could you go fetch the Paladins. Tell them we're having a meeting on the bridge."

Coran nodded his head in Allura's direction as he left the bridge leaving the two of them alone.

"They should be here any minute." Allura murmured, still refusing to look in Lotor's general direction.

"Good." Lotor kept his gaze trained on the floor, but his gaze briefly flickered upward as he watched Allura turn and face him. "There is much to discuss."

"Are you alright?"

He blinked with surprise at Allura's question. But knew that she was asking more for her own benefit than his. "I'll be fine." He simply replied, he wouldn't be fine, not for quite some time, but eventually he would get there.

Allura didn't speak; she didn't say anything for a few moments, even as the rigidity of her gaze melted into something that was clement and soft. "What you did was for the greater good and for many of us proof of your intentions for peace." Lifting his head, Lotor stared at Allura. There was a glimmer of idealistic hope burning in her eyes that just made him more tired than he was.

In his eyes, she was still no more than a bumbling child. A child protected away from the harsh realities of what it took to rule and it simply made him want to laugh, to see the crinkle of her brows as she stared at the sharp points of his teeth as they were exposed to the world. The way tears would slip from the corners of his eyes as he took in gasping breaths as the laughter began to subside. Because she, thought that him having his own father's blood upon his hands was a testament of peace; a testament of his proof that he truly wanted peace in the universe compared to him willingly being taken as a prisoner and giving up every bit of information he had, despite the distrust and willingness every Paladin had felt as they all agreed to trade him for Sam Holt. A trade he had pointed out for vargas, wouldn't be fair to them at all as Zarkon would have traps and tricks laid out for them, despite their beliefs that Zarkon would keep his word and give them Holt...every Paladin beside Lance. Who seemingly was the only one to put any sort of faith in him, despite Lotor being so unworthy of it.

As the doors to the bridge parted open, Lotor and Lance's eyes met and for the first time in what felt like years, Lotor could feel some of the tension he was carrying in his body melt away.

* * *

Lance was stunned silent as Lotor explained the Kral Zera to all of them and his plans for it. Not only was it the most insane plan he'd ever heard of his entire life, but they would essentially be removing themselves from the proverbial lion's den to inhabit the den of their enemies. But he was stunned more by Shiro, the source of calm and reason amongst their group, agreed to Lotor's plan without so much as any other input from the rest of them.

"Shiro, this plan doesn't sound reasonable." Lance tried to argue as Shiro thought it was sane for them all to go to a location that was going to be jammed pack with Galra leaders all fighting for a chance at the throne.

But instead, that only got him a glare from Shiro. "Lance, this isn't your call."

"But, Shiro—"

Shiro whirled on Lance so quick that it had him taking a step back. "This isn't a debate, Lance. I'm the leader of Voltron."

That just made Lance's blood boil as he remembered the Black Bayard in Lotor's hands. "Just because you're the leader of Voltron, doesn't mean you can make every single decision by yourself! Like giving Lotor your Bayard, what was th—"

There was something so inhuman and dark in Shiro's eyes when he stared at Lance with a cold, cruelty in his eyes that Lance had never seen before. "I told you to stay out of this."

Hunk—ever the peacemaker—quickly stepped in between the two of them, suggested that everyone take a break and get some fresh Olkarion air.

Lance huffed as he swiveled on his feet and left the bridge, he was speed walking away when he nearly jumped out of his own skin at the sensation of a presence behind him. His hand flew to his heart as he doubled over and glared at Lotor. "Please, warn a guy, the next time you walk behind him."

Seeing Lance's reaction to him, caused a smirk to tug at Lotor's lips. "Does the leader of the Paladins...generally react that way all the time?"

Lance realized that he was talking about Shiro's outburst. There was a sardonic smile that slipped across his face as he gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "No. Shiro's just been...testy for a while now."

Lotor made a soft, little hum as he nodded at the information. Letting the smile drop from his lips, Lance stared at Lotor, looking him over, before asking. "How are you doing?"

"Like I mentioned to Allura, I'll be fine."

Lance didn't believe him; he could see that Lotor's body language was still stiff. He knew the way Lotor had seemed so dead inside as they flew back to the castle after burying Zarkon. "No."

The single word had Lotor blinking in surprise, his eyes narrowing as he studied Lance with a look that almost seemed as scandalized as if Lance hadn't just disagreed with Lotor about his own mental state, but had walked in on him getting undressed. Lance's eyes widened at the thought, a blush rising to his cheeks as he quickly stomped down on the mental imagery. "I mean, that you're not okay, that is. You're not okay and you're not going to be for quite some time." Lotor opened his mouth in an attempt to protest Lance's assertion, but Lance poked him in the chest with a single index finger, which caused a look of incredulity to sweep over Lotor's face. "You've been through a lot in the last several hours. Your killed Zarkon, who while he may have been the world's shittiest dad was still related to you. He put you through centuries of shit, had you exiled, labeled as an enemy of the empire."

"What are you trying to say?"

"That you need a break. Some relaxation time for yourself."

Lotor hummed at the idea, he raised a single hand to cup his chin. "I'll take you up on your offer...Lance."

He couldn't help the grin that stretched across his own face.

* * *

A single fight later—it just seemed like Voltron couldn't catch a break, neither they or the Olkari—and Lance and Lotor found themselves in the kitchen. Two glasses of fresh milkshakes between them. Lotor reached out for the drink Lance had placed in front of him and stared at it suspiciously.

"If you're worried there's poison in it," Lance couldn't help the chuckle that fell from his lips as he rolled his eyes. "Trust me, but I didn't put any in it, even if I was tempted to."

Lotor still looked a little reluctant to drink it, so Lance simply reached across the table, grabbed Lotor's drink and took a sip from it. A single brow raised on his forehead as if he was daring Lotor to say that the drink was poisoned after he took a sip from it.

"Very well then," Lotor mumbled as he grasped the straw protruding from his milkshake with his index finger and thumb, pulling it toward his lips, he wrapped them around it and took a sip of the cold drink. His eyes widened in surprise as he pulled his mouth away from the drink.

"It's pretty good. Right?"

Lotor hummed to himself. "I will admit. It's interesting. Like nothing, I've ever tasted before. How do you make it?"

"Well—" Lance started before there was a loud, audible gasp that tore through the kitchen. It reminded Lance of the soap operas his mom and older sister loved to watch on weekday mornings; the ones where some wife would find out her husband was cheating on her with her sister or something. Like a blur, Coran came rushing into the kitchen and knocked Lotor's drink out of his hand as if it wasn't a foreign delicacy, but a bomb. The cold treat spilled out across the kitchen table, as milk, cream, and the single cherry Lance had topped the drink with made a slow crawl across the table.

Lotor looked absolutely perplexed at the situation and glanced at Lance, who shared the same sentimentality as they both simply stared at Coran who stared at them both ominously. "You don't want to know," the older Altean whispered as if he was delivering a cryptic message, before slowly walking backward out of the kitchen. His eyes trained on the two of them until he disappeared out of their sights.

"Okay, well that was weird," Lance mumbled underneath his breath. He got up from his seat to quickly find something to clean up the spilled drink with and ended up pushing his drink across the table. "You can have mine. Just don't say anything that might get Coran to come back and knock this one out of your hand too."

"Isn't this yours?" Lotor's eyes were narrowed at him.

"It is, but I'm giving it to you."

"Why?"

That single word resonated in Lance's soul. He took in a deep breath as he realized that despite having lived for so long, Lotor probably never had someone do something for him that didn't have an ulterior motive hidden behind it. He shrugged, avoiding Lotor's gaze. "Because I want to. So just take the drink before I steal it back from you."

Lotor took the drink without a single complaint, but he still stared suspiciously at Lance as if in any second he was going to jump on the table, point at Lotor and shout _surprise your drink was actually spiked_. Lance merely shook his head as he cleaned up the table with a rag he found and sat back down in his seat. "So, emperor, huh?"

"Yes," Lotor scowled, avoiding Lance's gaze. "It's merely one of the better outcomes that everyone could hope for in this situation. If I don't appear at Kral Zera, then that gives plenty of other Galra who are vying for the throne the opportunity they need."

"Is that a bad thing though? I doubt that there are Galra who could be anywhere close to Zarkon."

"I wouldn't say it's necessarily a bad thing." Lotor frowned down at his drink. "But there are plenty of Galra who could ascend the throne who are far worse than Zarkon...or Zorak. The best chance that I have or that anyone has for the empire to change is for me to install myself on the throne."

"And why do you think that?"

Lotor paused, his frown deepening. "Because I will give the universe a chance that it never got under Zarkon; while it may not wipe away the pain and suffering that millions have undergone during the centuries of Galra rule. There must be a start somewhere."

Lance studied Lotor's face as he spoke. As he considered the weight of Lotor's words. He was right, while Lotor was complicated and unpredictable, and the rest of the Paladins and the coalition as a whole would be wary of him. Lotor was their best option foreseeably to put on the throne.

"Well, if you're planning on putting yourself on the throne. The best thing for you to do is to have a conversation with people who've been affected by the empire, learn what happened to them, learn how you can make the empire better."

Lotor snorted, "there are millions of people who were and are affected by the empire. So where would I even begin?"

Cracking a single smile, Lance motioned to the space around him. "Your journey begins here."

* * *

 **A/N: I rarely ever like rereading one of my own works, but man there's something about this chapter that never gets old.**


	8. Coran

Fingers flying over the console in front of him, Coran hardly noticed the doors to the bridge sliding open or the figure that passed through them.

"You're the only one who hasn't made any attempt to show your displeasure at my presence aboard the ship."

There was a worldly sigh that fell from Coran's lips, fingers stilling against the keys in front of him; eyes slowly shutting as he prepared to face someone he hadn't been expecting to see. He slowly turned around, his eyes slowly opening, even as his face possessed a deep frown that made him look older than his age; a crestfallen look painting his face that barely encapsulated the true depth of loss and pain that Coran had suffered through in his life. "Prince Lotor." There was a gruff weariness to Coran's voice that had Lotor considering if Lance's advice was practical at this moment. "I apologize for not making you feel as welcome as I truly should have."

"There's no need for you to make me feel welcome. In fact, I wouldn't expect less for you or the other Paladins to feel wary of me right now."

A single brow rose on Coran's face as he twisted his torso to peer at Lotor. "Then is there something that I can help you with?"

Pensively, Lotor crossed his arms in front of his chest, his index finger idly tapping at the bulge of muscle beneath his fingertip. He hummed, "I suppose, you and I could converse about the multitude of ways the Galra Empire has impacted your life and caused you suffering."

Shock colored Coran's face, his brows pinching together as his lips twisted into something that was akin to a tired grimace. "Forgive me for being so curt, Lotor, but no matter what I choose to tell you or even if I choose to do so, will bring back anything that I've lost or erase what I feel. Now if you'll excuse me—" Coran paused, motioning to the hologram behind him that was lit up with diagnostics of the Castle. "—I have work to do." Turning his back on Lotor, the Galran Prince couldn't help but feel that Lance's plan wasn't working.

If he was supposed to be listening to how the empire had personally impacted other's lives shouldn't these people aboard this Castle be more than willing to prostrate themselves before his feet? Pour out their hearts and souls into his lap as they listed one by one how the empire had ripped their families, hopes, and dreams away from their arms? This wasn't going like he had expected it to.

Instead, Lotor sighed. "As the Blue Pal—Lance—put it in his Earth term. Do you want to talk about it?"

Coran turned his head to stare at Lotor, there was something flickering in his eyes—bewilderment? Surprise?—Lotor didn't know what, but there was a small smile on his lips as he simply whispered. "No." The older Altean turned back around, his hands engrossing themselves into the work before him.

Sharply sniffing in disgust, Lotor let out a low growl in the hollow of his throat. This clearly wasn't helping him if the old Altean wasn't planning on talking and it only made the prospects of talking to the other Paladins even more dim in his eyes. If he was keen on building up an empire that wasn't living in the oppressive shadow of his father's corpse, he needed these people to talk to him and their refusal was more than a hindrance and annoyance to him. "Lance told me that in order to overcome pain it was best to talk about it."

That made the Altean stop. His fingers still against the keyboard in front of him as a sigh ripped itself from his throat and his head fell forward as his shoulders slumped. "And sometimes it's best not to dredge up old memories." Lotor watched as Coran forced a smile on his face, forced a spark of joy to burn in eyes that were tired and weary; bogged down by the pain he refused to talk about.

It reminded him of himself.

"It's almost like the time I dug up Araimrizi." Coran continued. "Powerful little buggers; powerful jaws too! One time back when I was traveling with—"

"I didn't come here for a tale." Lotor's words sliced through the air as the icy tone tore itself from Lotor's throat. Coran simply stared at him, his brows raised as if he was almost pressuring Lotor to see what he would do. And it hit him like a slap to the face as he realized that years of experience and skills that Lotor had pared in comparison to Coran. The old man knew he was getting a rise out of him; knew that he was simply dodging the question, hiding behind the mask of a whimsical old man so he could avoid answering Lotor's line of questions.

Lotor had pegged him as a stubborn sort, but no he was much more than that. That glimmer of what he had mistook as bewilderment in the old man's eyes had been a cold, pitiful fury that he wasn't used to seeing. "I know what you're doing." Lotor pressed him. "Constantly hiding your own pain behind walls, just so that you don't have to face the tru—"

"Stop. Talking." Coran's words came out as a hushed whisper; there was a biting edge to them that only served to highlight the ruddy color of his cheeks as his face warmed with anger. The scalding fury that burned in his eyes and simply highlighted the tired lines that were etched into his face and made him look older than he truly was. "You don't have a clue about what you're trying to imply."

"I know enough about myself to recognize the same thing in another."

In the back of his mind, Lotor knew that he was watching the critical moment when Coran's opposing game piece fell, giving him an advantageous hand over the entire field. He watched as Coran sighed, pressed a single hand against his forehead and walked over to a chair that he collapsed in. Leaning forward in it, he pressed his hands against his face, obscuring his features. There was a tense silence that hovered between them, until Coran had pulled his hands away exposing his weary face, his lips parted as he began to talk. "Do you know what it's like? To wake up 10,000 years in the future to the knowledge that I and Princess Allura were the last of our people? The fact that I serve as her advisor with the unspoken knowledge that we have neither a home nor people to return to?

I mask my pain behind jokes and mirth because it's easier to do so than to confront the fact that Allura and I lost everything 10,000 years ago." Coran looked down at his own hands. His fingers curling inward to his palms as he let his eyes fall shut. Visions of dead friends, lovers, and family floated behind his eyes. Memories of happier times and moments in his life flittered behind them before they slipped back into the shadows of his mind. There was one face that he didn't focus on for too long, but unbidden like a rain shower it gripped his mind as King Alfor's face flashed in front of his eyes. His heart constricted inside of his chest as if it had been wrapped in thorns that burrowed into the flesh of the organ. Face burning with frustration, guilt, and anguish, he couldn't help but think about King Alfor—a man he'd come over time to not only regard as a dear friend but something like a brother. They'd shared so many adventures together—sailing across the dunes of Pusolrit, spending multiple evenings with nothing but the glow of a campfire to illuminate their faces as they gazed up at the stars, standing beside Alfor as his best man at his wedding; watching the way the corner of Alfor's eyes crinkled with happiness as he spotted Allura's mother approaching down the aisle. He'd been by Alfor's side for so long and when Adrasteia married Alfor, Coran felt that he had gained another member of his family.

He remembered the day, Alfor had rushed to come find him. He'd been working on repairs to the castle with his grandfather. Alfor had looked so giddy when he'd grabbed Coran by the wrist and dragged him to his personal study inside of the castle. Adrasteia sat perched in a chair, her hands gently pressed against her stomach.

She'd lifted her head at the sound of the study door squeaking as Alfor and Coran made their way in. Alfor had turned to him, a maddening grin stretched across his face.

"We wanted to tell you first, my dear friend."

"Tell me what?" It had struck him like a jolt of electricity as his eyes widened as he took in the small swell of Adrasteia's stomach. "No," he'd whispered.

She let out a sweet laugh; a laugh that reminded him of bells. "Yes."

There was a shout of joy that rushed out of Coran's mouth as he rushed over to her, pulled her up into a hug that pulled her off her feet, and spun her around in a small circle before she was playfully imploring him to put her down. Setting her back on her feet, he stared at her stomach.

"Do you know what it is?"

Giving a soft shake of her head, she simply continued to smile. "No." Was the simple response she gave, as she softly rubbed the swell of her stomach. "But I have the feeling it'll be a little girl." Glancing at her husband, her smile only seemed to widen. "And Alfor and I have talked already about this, but—" Pulling her hands away from her stomach, she reached out and grasped Coran's own in hers. "—we'd both like it if you could name her."

Shaking his head, Coran pulled his hand away from her grasp. "I can't—I couldn't. That's—that's such an honor."

Soft footsteps fell against the plush carpet that lined the study as Alfor came over and rested his hand against Coran's shoulder. "It is no honor, Coran. I consider you to be like a blood brother as if my own mother bore you herself. This is but a small gift that we can give to you."

There was a smile that stretched across Coran's face as he fell to his knees and pressed his hands against Adrasteia's stomach. "I have the perfect name in mind," he whispered, "Allura."

Wrenching himself out of the bittersweet memory that gripped his mind, Coran gingerly wiped at the tears rolling down his cheeks.

"You don't know how difficult it is," Coran whispered, his voice scratchy and broken from the flood of emotion that coated his throat. "To be by Allura's side when she was a baby still being cuddled in her mother's arms, to now a young adult forced to make decisions, be a leader that her parents would be proud of." There was a sardonic smile stretched across his face as he paused to collect his words. "It was one thing to advise her from the comforts of the castle, where she could simply stand at the helm and serve as a beacon of peace; a token of inspiration amongst the casualty and horrors of war. But for her to be at the forefront of it as a Paladin. It just makes me fear ever having to lose her. There are times where I dread going to sleep, dread closing my eyes with the knowledge that's she's going to put herself in the forefront of danger the next day. I don't just worry about her simply as her advisor. But I'm the only thing close to family that she has left and she's the only thing close to family that I fear losing. I laugh and make jokes because it's an easy thing to do that for a few moments, allows me to think of something other than the pain that may come if and when I lose Allura." Lifting his head from his hands, Coran found himself solemnly gazing into Lotor's eyes. "The pain that comes from losing those that you love...is something that takes time to heal, but the wound is still always going to be there."

Nodding, Lotor found himself thinking of a dream he had some time ago. His mother's arms wrapped around his shoulders as he tucked his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. A pang of pain resonated deeply in his stomach as his grip on his own arms tightened. "I know the feeling," he whispered.

Coran simply bowed his head, rose from his seat, and strode over to Lotor. With an outstretched hand, he patted Lotor's shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. Lotor didn't know why but the older Altean had an aura about him that made him relax a little in his presence.

The corner of Coran's mouth wrinkled a little in a tired smile as he said, "I believe this is the part where Lance tells me that we had a good talk."

Letting out a little huff of a laugh, Lotor let the odd combination of words flow from his tongue. "We had a good talk."

That phrase caused a smile to stretch across Coran's features. He could see the mask settle itself back onto Coran's face as his chipper personality won over—the little flicker of fear and doubt still burned in his eyes; it was something that Lotor was always going to be vigilant of, but he believed that the Altean today had allowed him to see a glimpse of himself that he had never shown to the other Paladins.

The older Altean ushered him from the bridge; saying there was important work left for him to do as he had to go through the entire diagnostics of the castle ship and that Lotor was free to do whatever he pleased.

As Lotor walked out of the bridge, he mindlessly roamed the halls of the castle, until he found himself standing in front of a door. It was decorated with little glowing stickers of various constellations, dwarf stars, and auroras. Lance had made sure to educate Lotor on whose room was whose on this ship by the various decorations they had placed up on the outside of their doors. Even as he raised a single fist to rap his knuckles against the metal of the door, Lotor wasn't worried by the inevitable conversation he'd be having with the person who occupied this room.

"Come in." The voice called out, slightly muffled by the thick metal of the door. At the sound of its occupants' voice and the express permission that Lotor was being granted entry to the room, the door slid open, revealing Allura sitting in front of a rather large mirror, the largest of her mice resting comfortably in her cupped hands as the others were perched upon her shoulders.

Her brows wrinkled together as a flicker of surprise and distrust bloomed in her eyes. "Lotor."


	9. Allura

"May I come in?"

Blinking in surprise at Lotor's words, she reluctantly nodded her head but watched him as carefully as if he'd had a knife hidden behind his back as he entered her bedroom. He stood just a few feet away from her, even as she awkwardly pointed to a spare chair in the room that she was attempting to offer to him as a seat.

Politely declining the offer with a simple shake of his head, he cleared his throat. "Princess."

Raising a single hand in front of her as she stopped Lotor in his tracks, she gave a soft shake of her head. "It would feel most awkward if I kept referring to you as Lotor, yet you refer to me with my title. Please, just call me Allura, as all the other Paladins do."

Though her smile was warm; an attempt to be friendly despite their past interactions with one another, it did little to ease the tension that was apparent in both of their shoulders.

She coughed, lifting a fist to her mouth, she repeated the same action with a sheepish look upon her face as if she was too afraid to ask why Lotor was standing in her room.

"I came because I wanted to simply talk."

"Talk?" The word fumbled from her lips as if Allura had just heard it for the first time in her life. Her brows were pinched together, eyes icy pools of water that reflected Lotor's face back to him.

"Yes, talk," Lotor repeated himself, much to the consternation of Allura who simply continued to stare at him.

"About…?" She trailed off, her eyes flickering to her bedroom door as if she was considering either kicking Lotor out or running out the door herself.

"How you've suffered because of what...the Galra Empire has done to you personally."

Those icy pools of water only seemed to grow colder as Allura fixed him with a stare that was equal parts distrust and uncomfortableness to the topic that had the mice perched on her shoulders arch their backs at the topic as if it personally offended them as well. Reaching up, she ran a single finger along the spine of the yellow one. It seemed to calm down as it relaxed under her minute gesture as Allura scratched at its head with a single finger. "Forgive me if I seem rather...uneasy around this topic, Lotor. But this isn't something that either of us has brought up in our battles against each other. So forgive me for being impolite when I ask what your aim is behind asking me such a question?"

"I have no ulterior motives to it, Allura." Sighing softly through his nose, Lotor debated whether even attempting to converse with her at this moment was even an acceptable usage of his time. "Everything I do is because I want to learn about the suffering and pain that the empire—my empire—has left upon planets, cultures, and entire races that we have oppressed and exploited for our own selfish and exploitative desires."

Drawing in a single sharp breath, the tension in Allura's brows never relaxed even in the slightest. The distrust in her eyes was like a stagnant pool of water; it didn't take an intellectual to see that Allura still distrusted Lotor. He doubted she would ever trust him, in her eyes he was the son of Zarkon. A dark mark that was already cast upon him the moment he came into the world. Even if some time passed and she came to give him some degree of trust, there would always be that little nagging voice in the back of her head that would remind her of who his parentage was and he felt like nothing he would do would ever dissuade that little nagging voice in the back of her mind.

There was a subtle shift in his facial expression. Slight enough that one wouldn't notice it, but in his own mind Lotor was beginning to question whether taking Lance's idea was even a good thing; how it might have been better to ignore his advice after all.

Allura raised a brow a singular brow however, as if she picked up the subtle change in Lotor's behavior. She cocked her head to the side.

"Forgive me, for wasting your time, Allura, but maybe it's best that we don't have this conversation." Lotor attempted to make his way to her bedroom door, in an effort to leave, but Allura called out to him to wait.

"Did Lance put you up to this?" That single question had Lotor turning on his heels to face her; her distrust of him was still apparent on her face, but there was another unreadable emotion just layered beneath it. "I don't exactly know just what it was you did to him when you had him captive, but he—he doesn't distrust you as much as the others do."

"Why would it matter if he had a hand in why I chose to pay you a visit, unarmed and without a single weapon on my person?"

She looked taken aback by Lotor's words. There was something cold and shriveling in her eyes, like a spider web of cracks that raced across the murky surface of the ice. You didn't know what was beneath it, whether there was frigid water below your feet or a predator lying in wait. "Because he's not the same. Not anymore." There was a harsh edge to the whisper that left her lips as she glared at him.

"He's hardly going to ever be the same. Lance changed the moment he was whisked away from the Earth and dragged into the midst of a war that my father may have started, but yours continued."

Taking in a hissing breath, Allura quickly rose to her feet, causing the mice on her shoulders to squeak in annoyance before hopping off of her shoulders and down to the dresser below. With a single finger, she pointed it in Lotor's direction. Her eyes narrowed as fury burned dangerously in them. "A war that my father continued!? My father was trying to put an end to Zarkon's reign of terror before he was cruelly murdered."

There it was. That same naive, idealistic side of Allura that nearly drove Lotor mad with frustration. She would never view her father as some man who was capable of terrible actions just as much as Zarkon or any other Galra was capable of committing good ones. To many Zarkon would always be seen as an oppressive, dictator, but Lotor knew many Galra who viewed Zarkon as a benevolent saint. His methods may not have been just, but they were necessary in their eyes to bring about a prosperous future for their race who had just lost their planet, eons of culture, and history with a single blast of energy. Lotor knew his mother's notes as much as he knew his own memories. He could recall words written down in her diaries of times before Altea had aligned itself with other planets and planetary trade. A time when Altea had been what the Galra were now. A time when Altea had been militaristic, a time when planets had run red with blood all in the name of _peace_ that Altean leader's had so heartily preached for. It drove him mad as the corner of his lip turned upward into a snarl. "Just because your father was king, Allura. Doesn't mean that he wasn't incapable of making decisions that even now you wouldn't agree with; that even now paled in comparison to the worst things that you have seen the Galra capable of doing. Sometimes even the most righteous of kings wet their hands with blood and become monsters."

"You have no right to besmirch my father's name like that." She hissed, her fingers curling inward to the palm of her hands, her entire body shaking as if she was ready to leap across the small distance that separated her from Lotor and strike him.

Eyes narrowing, he simply whispered back. "I have every right to criticize the late King Alfor, Allura. I lived and watched the tolls the action of your father had upon my people. You didn't. You slept for 10,000 years in a cryopod; you were shielded, coddled away from the actions that your father committed—"

"Be quiet," Allura whispered. Her eyes darkening until they resembled turbulent storm clouds.

"Face it, Allura," Lotor continued, his voice rising slightly as he gestured at her. "You're a naive, idealist. More afraid about confronting whatever atrocities her people may have committed during war—"

"Quiet." There was a vulgarity in her tone that crept into the way she spoke to him. Never in a million years would she have allowed herself to speak to another without some decorum to her words. But it seemed that anger made her tongue looser and her words harsher.

"—more afraid of discovering that her father wasn't some perfect saint that she built up inside of her mind—"

"Quiet!" Allura roared, her words bouncing off the walls of the room as Lotor clamped his lips shut. His eyes flickered over her slightly reddened face as he took in her anger, her fury, that swirled inside of her as he pictured a chess board in which he had wiped away all of her pieces and left a single solitary king upon the board that belonged to him.

Coran was stubborn and it took all that it had from Lotor to drag everything out of the old Altean before Coran spilled all of his emotional sorrows and fears into his lap. Lotor guessed that Allura would simply be the same way and now where he stood, facing a red-faced princess who looked more ready to punch him than spill the unshed tears that prickled at the corner of her eyes, he knew that he'd had pushed her right where he wanted her to be.

"You don't know what I'm afraid of," Allura whispered harshly.

Striding across the room, until he was standing mere inches away from her, Lotor peered down at her face and spoke so lowly that no other would be able to hear them, even if they craned their necks to try. "Then what are you afraid of? If not for the truth?"

Allura let out a guttural yell of frustration as she lashed out, with enough force that she could muster, she pushed Lotor away from her. "I'm afraid of forgetting who I am!" Lotor raised his brow at her words as her hands dropped to her sides, her shoulder slightly sagging at her sudden admission. "I'm afraid I've already forgotten things I held so dearly to my heart." Reaching up, she buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders slightly shaking as she pulled in halting breaths to try and steady her emotions. Moments seemed to pass before she pulled her hands away from her face. Her head was still bowed, allowing Lotor no glimpse of her features. "Do you know how painful it is to be one of the last only two Altean's to exist? My home is gone. My people are gone. Years of Altean culture and history wiped away from the universe in a matter of moments. My parents—" she trailed off, the mention of her parents seemingly too overwhelming for her to talk about as she gave a small, sad shake of her head. "There are times I wake up at night. In a cold sweat, because I can no longer remember how my own mother smelt or how my father's eyes would crinkle whenever he told me an old, sappy joke from his boyhood."

She lifted her head, allowing Lotor to see that something had shifted inside of her. Instead of staring at a princess, a warrior, who had experience battling on the front lines, forging alliances and treaties of peace. He felt that he was staring at a frightened, little girl, who was more used to hiding behind her mother's skirts with a doll clutched tightly in her hand instead of a strong, wizened leader that Allura projected herself as. Without a single word, Allura made her way over to her dresser and took a seat on its bench. Her mice scuttled close to the crook of her elbow, bumping at her limb with their noses which caused a wonton smile to spread across her face as she turned slightly to scratch behind their ears as she attempted to placate them.

"You worry about him," Lotor remained still where he stood. As he felt he understood the princess more now than he had mere moments ago. Images of his own generals flashing in his mind. "You worry about Coran. The Paladins. Your own memories and past. You worry about it all and yet—" he trailed off, letting the silence eat his words as Allura laughed bitterly at his ability to see through everything.

"I worry, so much," the bitterness made her voice raw and scratchy. "I've prepared all my life to eventually ascend to the throne. To lead my people when my father became too old to do so. But I am nothing like him." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she turned her head to stare at Lotor as she said this. "I may not know everything he ever did during the war, but I'm not prepared to lead. I'm not prepared to lead anyone, not my fellow Paladins, not this Coalition. I don't even think I was prepared to lead my own people. Instead, I feel like I'm just that scared little girl again; that scared, frightened, little girl who watched her father place her into a cryopod as Altea came under attack." She drew in a shuddering breath as she reached up to pinch at the bridge of her nose. "Everything felt so _different_ when I stepped out of that cryopod. To know that the entire universe changed with a single war, to know that there were people who had been hurt and abused by an entire race of people—"

"It was never an entire race," Lotor cut her off, an annoyed edge apparent in his words.

"—I know," Allura nodded. "But I think my hatred, my anger, my confusion, my own hubris led me to paint everyone the same with a single brush stroke. I knew that all Galra weren't bad. I was raised amongst them, were friends with many of them, treated them like the siblings I never had. But that fear that I felt, to learn that the same people I had considered friends and family had readily turned their weapons against me and my people, it simply pushed all the good that I knew the Galra to be capable of. The good that I had witnessed myself to the back of my mind. So now, every single Galra that crosses my path, I can't help but feel a glimmer of irrational fear everytime a Galra crosses my path. It's a fear that I'm trying to overcome, but—" her gaze flickered to Lotor, a glimmer of an apologetic look burning in her eyes. "—I know I have a tendency to be naive; to be idealistic, but it's all I know. I will admit that I felt uneasy around you—I still do—but fighting alongside you, Keith, and the Blade of Marmora has me recognizing that my volatile words and actions can truly leave the same wounds in others that I sought desperately to repair in myself."

Lotor simply raised his brow at Allura's admission that one of her own Paladins had Galra blood inside of him. He filed that information away for later use as Allura reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She chuckled wistfully as a forlorn smile tugged at the corner of her lip. "And Lance was trying to get me to see the good sides of you too." Lifting her gaze, she stared straight at him as she spoke. There was a slight pause before her words as if she was fearful of even speaking them aloud, but did so anyway. "When Zarkon offered us that deal of trading you for Sam Holt, he was the only one to speak up on your behalf when all of us had already made up our minds." There was that forlorn smile again, painted across her features. "And I suppose I no longer deserve even a single word from him, not after everything that happened with Zarkon."

Observing her from head to toe, Lotor felt that he had a greater understanding of Allura now than he did mere moments ago. Then he had believed her to be a naive princess, who'd had the world handed to her, a silken cloth perpetually placed over her eyes that prevented her from realistically seeing a harsh, brutal world that Lotor had had to claw his way through—still had to claw his way through. Pain and terror had been his wet nurses from the moment he'd been born, but for Allura, it had been different. She grew up knowing love and affection when Lotor had been starved of it, so of course, their outlooks on life would be so wildly different. But it had only infuriated him to know that Allura, was nothing like he'd expected her to be. A sharp, wizened leader had been washed away and replaced with the image of a princess who was thrust into a role that was too big to be placed upon her shoulders. A princess who was prepared to lead her own people, not an entire coalition.

He'd expected anger and fury to be like companions on his shoulder when it came to her. But instead, all he felt was pity and empathy. To now know that she felt like she didn't deserve to be in Lance's good graces. To have one of her trusted Paladins refrain from talking to her because her judgment was clouded by years of distrust and hate…

He nearly surprised himself with the reassuring words that fell from his lips. "He doesn't feel the same way." Allura's eyes studied his face, her features slightly relaxing, but still equally puzzled. "Lance, that is." He clarified. "He's rightfully upset, but it would do the both of you no comfort to refrain from speaking to one another. You should seek him out, talk to him, and cast away whatever harsh feelings you have for one another. Even though Lance may not look like it, he's a great listener, with the ability to be empathetic as well."

A genuine smile graced her lips as she pressed a hand against the center of her chest and let out a warm chuckle that reminded Lotor of soft, tinkling bells. "I suppose that's true." She breathed in. "You know, Lance once called me the ' _heart of Voltron_ ' often times I can't help but think that he was wrong. That instead of me being the heart that keeps this team together, that it isn't him?" As quickly as the warm, jovial look flashed across her face it dissipated yet again. "But he's changed. We all have. I think that's what concerns me the most; the fact that Lance changed when he was held captive on your ship and refuses to talk about it. He never wants to talk about what he went through with Zorak—" Lotor winced, unable to help the unbidden memory that flashed in his mind of Lance's punctured, bleeding skin as he peeled away his undersuit to expose the torture that Zorak had put him through. "—and I think that makes me more concerned than anything else."

Surprise flickered across her face as Lotor crossed the few strides that separated them. Her mice eyed him warily, but for the most part, perched themselves behind her body as if it was a barricade that separated him from them. Reaching out, Lotor placed his hand upon Allura's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "When Lance is truly ready to tell his entire story, he'll come to you. He'll come to you all."


	10. Shiro

The door to Allura's room slid shut behind Lotor's back, with a hiss that sounded like a person relieved to have the weight of their sin's slipping off of their chest. He wasn't exactly looking for the next person that came his way, but he found Lotor instead.

"Lotor."

Turning on his heels at the sound of his own name, Lotor felt a measure of surprise flood his veins as Shiro made his way over to him. The Galra couldn't help the flood of suspicion and uneasiness that flowed through his veins as his eyes flickered over Shiro warily, the Paladin slowly approaching him, with a gait that was loose and casual as if Shiro was greeting an old friend rather than someone who was a mere enemy to him only a few vargas before. There was a feeling he got from the man; a feeling that made Lotor on edge like the multiple times he'd found a person clinging to him to satisfy their own personal gains or that of the witch's. Eyes flicking up and down the hall of the ship, Lotor tried to tamper down the sneaking suspicion that Shiro had been waiting for him to leave Allura's room.

A sneaking suspicion that refused to sink beneath the surface. Instead, he raised a single, white brow, as a simple question left his lips. "Yes?"

That seemed to cause a flame to flicker in Shiro's eyes—a flame of undiscernible emotions—that had Shiro crossing his arms in front of his chest and giving Lotor a comforting grin. "How are you finding the ship?"

"It's adequate." Was Lotor's curt reply. There was a nagging, gnawing feeling in the back of his mind that warned him to place as little trust in Shiro as possible, despite the fact that the other Paladins seemingly trusted him enough that they'd put their lives on the line for him if there were ever a moment that called for it.

Nodding at Lotor's words as if he'd been expecting Lotor to say so little, Shiro motioned to an adjacent hallway that Lotor hadn't traveled down yet. "Well since you're still getting used to the ship, why don't I give you a tour?"

Lotor's eyes narrowed at the offer—he knew the difference between an offer laced with honeyed words that were tailored to flatter him and a command that was wrapped up in an offer. None of the tension he carried his shoulders ebbed as he glumly nodded at Shiro. The two of them began to walk down the hall as Shiro pointed out where the training room was if Lotor simply walked a little further. The shared showers; the kitchen, Shiro pointed out the location of important facilities as he and Lotor continued to walk. Lotor found himself tuning the Paladin out as he already knew much of the layout of the ship as Lance had informed him of it at his own request. It was information that he concluded that Shiro didn't need to know about.

There was a point where Shiro's words came to a quiet lull of silence and Lotor lifted his gaze as a trepidatious tingle ran up the length of his spine to find Shiro's dark eyes boring into him. It made all of his organs lurch as he slightly jerked his head back as if he'd been slapped in the face. There was a crawling sensation up his skin that he felt Shiro was observing him; analyzing him and it did him no favors but to help remind him of others who'd done the same thing to him from the moment he'd been born till who knew when.

"I know." Those two words fell from Shiro's lips, like a weapon ready to be wielded.

Keeping his face impassive, Lotor let his hands rest behind his back, his chin slightly lifting as he regarded Shiro out of the corner of his eyes. "What is it that you think you know?"

Shiro fell quiet yet again as the two of them continued to walk, there was light pouring out of one of the rooms they were coming up on. Loud laughter pouring out of the space like a song. There was nothing burning in Shiro's eyes, nothing that Lotor could hope to glean or pull any sort of information from. Shiro came to a stop in front of the open doorway with Lotor following his suit. The two of them peered into the kitchen to see Hunk pulling a steaming tray from the oven as he murmured something to Lance who was perched on top of a counter, sneaking bites off a separate cooling tray of snacks while Hunk wasn't looking.

Lance's gaze swiveled to Lotor's face in mid-chew, his eyes darting between him and Shiro, even as his brow furrowed and he lifted a single hand and gave the two of them a small wave. Tearing his gaze away from Lance, Lotor could feel a gaze burning itself into the side of his face.

"I know why you're doing all of this." Shiro motioned to the space around him with a roll of his wrist.

Lotor narrowed his eyes at him. There was a soothing smile that stretched across his face. "I don't quite understand what you're talking about, Paladin."

Shiro let out a bitter chuckle in the back of his throat as he turned to face Lotor. In the kitchen, worry slipped across Lance's face, but Shiro gave a single shake of his head, causing the worry on Lance's face to deepen. "What you're doing, talking to all of us. You're not doing it for you."

Taking offense to that, Lotor bristled, his claws lengthening from the swarm of emotions boiling inside of him. "I don't think you know what you're talking about." Lotor spat.

Shiro's mouth twisted into a frown. "I think I do. You're not talking to any of us for your own personal ambitions. You're doing this for him." Shiro glanced into the kitchen, Lotor following his gaze until his own eyes settled upon Lance's worried face. There was a terse smile that slipped across his face, more to soothe Lance's spirits than his own. Lance's lips puckered out as he seemed to wrestle with a torrent of emotions inside of him, despite the worry sloughing off of his skin. Shiro's voice dropped to no more than a whisper. "I don't know what you're intentions are with Lance, but I look out for him, just like I look out for the rest of my team. And right now, none of us can trust you fully. Not without ignoring the history between us or the fact that you had Lance as a hostage aboard your ship. Or the fact that you murdered one of your generals either."

"You don't know what happened on that ship," Lotor growled, the corner of his mouth twitching in annoyance. He didn't care if any of them trusted him, nor did he care to question how Shiro even learned about him having slain Narti with his own two hands. His mouth was dry as the subtle realization bloomed in the back of his mind that in order to live Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid had probably disowned him and pledged their loyalty to the empire. Probably told whoever would listen about how he'd turn on Narti and they feared for their own lives that he'd do the same to them. Information like that would have traveled and spread, so it was of no surprise to him that the Paladins—especially Shiro, Allura, and Coran—would have had that information reach their ears. "Nor do you know what happened with my general, either."

"I don't." Shiro nodded. "But that isn't going to change until either you or Lance tell us what happened on that ship. Or—" Shiro's gaze burned holes into Lotor's skin. "—what the hell you're planning on doing to Lance." There was an unsaid threat layered beneath his words, one that had Lotor drawing himself up to his height as he bared his fangs at Shiro.

"Are you threatening me, Paladin?"

"Are you perceiving it as one?"

"Guys!" Shiro and Lotor turned their head to find Lance standing in the archway of the kitchen door. His brows were pinched together, his mouth flattened out into a worried line. His own gaze flickered between the two of them. "Is everything alright?"

There was a warm grin that stretched across Shiro's features. "Everything's fine Lance. Lotor and I are just having a chat."

Lance turned his gaze to Lotor, a silent question burning in his eyes as if he was attempting to ask Lotor if that's truly what was going on. He nodded tersely, his teeth sinking down onto the soft flesh of his cheek. "Yes, we're just _talking_."

"We're fine, Lance." Shiro smiled at him, although Lance looked hesitant, he nodded at the two of them and retreated back into the interior of the kitchen as Hunk called out to him. "I suppose we should continue our tour." Swiveling on his heels, Shiro took off with Lotor walking after him. Shiro led him down several halls before the two of them found themselves in the sitting area. The wide windows that spanned an entire wall showed several planets and stars that the ship was passing by. "I suppose that this ends our tour," Shiro chuckled as he turned his gaze on Lotor. There was an unbidden tension in the air that caused Lotor's suspicions of Shiro to deepen even further.

"Just what is it that you're planning?" Lotor questioned, as Shiro walked toward the windows and peered out of them. He could feel Shiro watching him through the reflection of the glass.

Shiro ignored him, however, and instead elected to carry on the conversation as if Lotor hadn't just asked him a question. "Aren't you supposed to be getting to know me, like you did with Allura and Coran?"

Keeping silent, Lotor merely continued to stare at Shiro. The Paladin's eyes seemed to glaze over as he recounted a story that he pulled from the depths of his memories. "I can almost see it like it was yesterday. The first time I stepped out into the arena."

 _Even in the hall, as he stood in line with the other prisoners. A red forcefield separated them from the main portion of the arena, but even that couldn't keep out the rapturous yells and screams of glee as the crowd chanted the name of the warrior one of them was bound to fight._

 _"_ Myzax _!_ Myzax _!"_

 _In front of him, Shiro could see Matt's shoulders trembling from fear as the other prisoners around them nervously shuffled around them, one or two of them bursting into tears as Shiro picked up that something was wrong. The forcefield disappeared as a guard stepped into the hall and pointed his weapon at Matt. Shiro sucked in a single breath as he didn't even need to look at Matt's face to see the surprise, shock, and fear that probably gripped it. Over the guard's shoulder, Shiro saw the opponent that Matt would be facing._ Myzax _was a hulking figure at least several stories tall and with enough weight on him that he had to weigh more than a tank, in his right arm he wielded a wand with a purple, crackling orb of energy floating above it. There was dried and fresh blood smearing the dirt of the arena, some of it so fresh that Shiro could smell it from where he stood._

 _Dread filled his stomach as he realized that Matt would be sent to his death if he walked out there. He had needed a plan, anything to get Matt out of the situation. His eyes focused on the weapon in the guard's hand, his thought hadn't even finished as he found his feet racing towards the guard, wrenching its weapon out of its hand. Even as Matt called out his name in concern and fear. He had let out a roar, as he spun around and with the weight of the weapon had sent the force of it smashing into Matt's leg. He could hear rather than feel the crunch of Matt's bone as he fell to the ground, cradling his leg as it throbbed in pain._

 _The other aliens stepped away from Matt and Shiro, their fear of him outweighing any desire they had to help an injured Matt. Shiro stood there, his eyes wild and dancing in his skull as he let out another roar, raised his weapon, and brought it down on Matt's leg._

Snapping out of the memory, Shiro placed a hand on his metallic arm. The limb was shaking from the onslaught of memories that were swirling in his mind. His accompanying fight with Myzax was a blur in his mind, even as his body throbbed with the dull ache of wounds that had long healed themselves. Gripping his arm tightly, he breathed slowly as the shaking in his arm settled down. "I don't suppose you know what the arenas are like. Everything was so foreign to me, so terrifying that my only concerns at the time where staying alive and making certain that the Holt's made it back to Earth alive." Shiro smiled forlornly, knowing that even though he had family back on Earth, he'd have been willing to give it all up just so that Pidge and her mom didn't lose a brother and a husband.

"I know what the arenas are like," Lotor replied coolly, his own gaze measured as he stared at Shiro.

There was a fury that swept over Shiro's features. An animal that seemingly friendly, could bare its fangs at even the barest of hints of anger. "So you're just like _them_." He growled.

Lotor knew who Shiro was referring to. The Galra elite, the elite of other races, the blood hungry. They were anyone who paid for a ticket to watch the entertainment that was being offered in the arena. Anyone who gladly cheered when a single person lost their life, their blood spilling over the dirt of the arena. And Shiro thought Lotor was like one of them. Any fights that occurred in the arena may have been for the pleasure of Zarkon's evening entertainment, but Lotor was nothing like him. Eyes narrowing, Lotor's blood threatened to boil inside of him. "Are you suggesting that I may be anything like my father?" His skin was burning, the faint scars that littered his arms from a lifetime spent fighting underneath blinding lights seemed to crawl and itch against his skin. "Because I am well aware what goes on within the arenas—"

Shiro's lips parted as if he was ready to pick a fight with Lotor and pick him apart with no more than his teeth.

"—especially given the fact that I was never a spectator of them."

There was something that burned in Shiro's eyes. Pity, maybe, but Lotor didn't want it. Instead, he averted his gaze from Shiro's face as his skin felt hot and uncomfortable to him. Shiro's lips pressed together. "I didn't know that you, as Zarkon's son—" He tried to offer after minutes of silence had passed.

"No one ever does." Lotor spat bitterly, eager to be done with the conversation. Eager to stuff unwanted memories back into the darkness where he'd buried them.

Shiro nodded as if he had no words that he could offer in condolence. Instead, he continued to share his own story. "I don't know how long I was there in that arena for. Fighting—murdering—as I desperately strove to stay at the top after defeating Myzax. Who knew what would have happened to me if the crowd suddenly grew bored of me. Would I be tossed aside like a pile of trash? Or would I be executed as another source of entertainment for them? At this point, I don't know who I was staying alive for, but it definitely wasn't for myself or the Holt's—Sam had been transferred to a working camp when he got split up, and Matt, after I attacked him and broke his leg."

 _The spotlights were blinding in Shiro's eyes as he roared, his fist smashing down into the face of his competitor. Over and over and over, until blood was coating his bruised and skinned knuckles, speckles of it splashed across his jaw as he felt the body below him twitch before one final exhale fell from the alien's lips and it was still. His chest was burning as he stared down at the bloody pulp of flesh below him, so mangled and destroyed beyond all recognition by his bare fists that he wasn't even certain what his opponent had looked like in the first place. An announcer rushed to his side, gripped his wrist and held his arm up in the air as the crowd went wild. His own name assaulting his ears as he stared down numbly at another life he'd ended with his own two hands under the guise of a bloodthirsty sport. His eyes sweeping through the crowd of aliens clustered in the seats above him as they chanted his name, his eyes stopped as he felt a chill run up his spine. His gaze settling on a cloaked figure as she stared at him for what seemed like an excessive amount of time. Her eyes narrowed at him, as she turned and whispered into the ear of a hulking figure that Shiro had assumed had to be a king of some sort._

"Really, was I fighting for myself? Or was I fighting just for the sake of it? When I thought that the Galra couldn't take anything more from me that they already hadn't taken, they decided to take something important from me…"

 _He'd been sleeping in his cell, the stench of blood and death still clinging to him when the door slid open, letting a stream of harsh light inside that caused him and his cellmates to stir awake. He couldn't make out the illuminated shapes in his doorway as they stood there._

 _"It isn't time for another fight." He'd called out as one of the figures had pointed in his direction._

 _Two Galra guards had marched into the cell and up to him, each one gripping his arms even as he fought back. One of them had used the butt of their guns to whip him in the face, causing his neck to snap to the side as the acrid tang of blood oozed over his teeth and onto his tongue. Shocked, they'd grabbed him and drug him out even as he protested and screamed at them. Dragging him down halls and through passageways, he'd ended up in a room that had been awash in an eerie purple glow. There were jars of bright purple light that lined the entire expanse of the room. There was a metal slab in the middle with cloaked and masked figures standing around it. They garbled something in that strange tongue that he still couldn't comprehend. Dragging him over to the slab, the guards strapped him down to it. His eyes darted along the room, his heart pounding inside of his chest as he saw charts and glowing screens with an alien script on them. His own face plastered floating on some of the screens, with little notes are written upon them. Many of which pointed back at an empty silhouette of a human body. One of the guards produced a black leather strip that they tied slightly just above his elbow._

 _"What are you doing!?" He tried to wrench his arm out of its restraint. Even as in the corner of his vision, several cloaked figures similar to that woman appeared. Shiro spotted her, standing in the corner of the room. Her eyes narrowed as if she regarded him as some specimen that would be the key to whatever it was that these cloaked figures did. She spoke harshly to the figures, alien words falling from her tongue, with the only word that Shiro could comprehend causing his brows to pinch in confusion._

 ** _Kuron._**

 _He wondered what it meant even as above him, there was a whirring sound that forced him to tilt his head back to see that there was a spinning blade above his head being held by one of the cloaked figures. It reminded him of a saw, though the blade was smooth around the edges. "Wait," Shiro whispered as a sense of dread flooded through his veins. "Wait," the word fell from his lips again as the blade hovered closer to his arm and pressed against the surface of his skin. "Wait!" His shout fell on deaf ears as the blade pricked his skin, drawing beads of blood to the surface as his head fell back and a deafening scream ripped itself from his throat—_

"—Shiro?"

Shiro's eyes were wild like a caged animal as the sound of his name ripped him from the grips of memories that he wished he'd forgotten. Letting out a shaky laugh, his tongue darted between dry lips as droplets of sweat rolled down from his temples. "I suppose the Galra took more than just an arm from me." He attempted to joke, his own laugh sounding artificial to his own ears.

Lotor said nothing as his gaze flickered to Shiro's arm. It reeked of a combination of the latest Galra technology and dabbles of whatever magic Haggar and her ilk practiced.

"They left me with a bunch of scars I'm never certain will heal. Scars that make me hate  
everything that they did to me." Glancing down at his prosthetic arm, Shiro frowned at it. "And something that will serve as a reminder to me until the day that I die." Brows furrowing, Lotor wanted to question Shiro as to what he meant by that, but he had pushed himself away from the window, mumbling something about a headache that he was going to see if Hunk couldn't whip up a home remedy for.

"Why aren't you angrier?" Lotor finally asked him, just as Shiro was preparing to walk through the doors.

The Paladin paused, his lips pursed together, before shrugging his shoulders. "I'm angry all the time. I'm angry at what the Galra took from me and what they did to me. I may have accepted what happened to me—" He glanced down at his mechanical arm, "—but I'll never be able to truly accept it. I act the way I do because I don't want anyone to treat me differently, especially not my own team. Getting angry gets things done, but that doesn't mean it makes every situation better."

And with that, the doors behind Shiro slid shut, leaving Lotor behind to wrestle with his own feelings.


	11. Keith

Lotor thought the universe was playing a cruel joke upon him when the doors to the kitchen slid apart and instead of revealing Lance to him, who he'd seen mere moments earlier as he and Shiro had passed by the kitchen, he'd instead nearly collided into Keith who stood just behind the door.

Keith scowled at him as if he was excrement that he'd had the unfortunate pleasure of stepping in. "What do you want?"

Refusing to stoop to the same level of animosity that Keith clearly held for him, his eyes scanned the room for any signs of Lance and came back thoroughly disappointed when he failed to spot the Paladin. He turned on his heels, intent on leaving and searching for Lance when Keith let out a disgruntled "hey" that had Lotor rolling his eyes and turning his head to stare at him.

"Are you ignoring me?" He scoffed incredulously.

"Do you feel like you're being ignored? Because I rather having nothing of value to say to you as of right now."

Tensing up as Keith reached out with lightning quick reflexes to wrap a hand around Lotor's wrist, Keith drew himself up to his full height, which was still a few inches shorter than Lance. Lotor studied his face, just as he recollected the morsel of information that Allura had dumped into his lap earlier. "I don't know what game you're playing at here—" Keith began, his face burning with anger as his grip on Lotor's wrist tightened.

"You're Galra," Lotor whispered, more to himself rather than to Keith who heard his words anyway.

"Not fully," Keith mumbled, letting his grip on Lotor's wrist slacken as he pulled his hand back to his side.

But it was still enough for Lotor to recognize that Keith had Galra blood running through his veins. He never quite understood it himself, what set other half-Galra like himself apart from the rest or what drew him to find others like him. Maybe it was the way they held themselves like they had something to prove to a world that constantly reminded them they were different from others. Or maybe it was the innate desire that all half-Galra had inside of themselves, a desire to reach out and search for anyone in the universe that was unknowingly like them. It delighted him to know that he and Keith were alike in some way.

But Keith clearly didn't it. "No." The single word was sharp, with the edginess of a fatal bite that was meant to tear through flesh, sinew, and bone.

"No?" There was a curious fire illuminating Lotor's eyes, his brow curving at the faintest hint of his own question.

"You—" Keith pointed a single finger at Lotor's being, before letting his fingers splay apart as he pressed the palm of his hand against his chest. "—And I? We're nothing alike."

Sighing, Lotor crossed his arms in front of his chest. "No matter how much you want to deny it. You and I both carry the blood of the Galra race within our veins. Regardless of how miniscule it is. You and I are as much Galra as those that sired us."

Keith was shaking his head at Lotor's words, his voice rising with his frustrations. "I didn't ask to be!"

"You may not have asked to be born with the blood you carry in your veins, but you were born with it and it does little help to you or anyone else for you to be denying your heritage. You should be proud to be Galra—"

"Why should I be proud to be associated with the likes of you or any of the other Galra out there who've hurt so many people?"

"And how does viewing many of the Galra citizens who have nothing to do with this petty war that Zarkon or King Alfor started as conspirators to a war in which they neither make orders nor are the ones on the front lines holding weapons any better than the intolerant speech that's so rampant in the universe. Would it be wise for you to assume that members of the Blade of Marmora are as equally culpable for their actions as Sendak? Or even your own Galra parent as well?"

"That's different!"

"But what makes it different? Is it because you're able to see the allies on your side of the war? Because it's easier for you to empathize and dignify them? Or is it easier because you've never been behind enemy lines? Never had to see nor speak with the average Galra citizens who are so ignorant of the going on's of the war that it's much easier to vilify an entire race and pull the trigger against them?"

Lotor could see Keith's chess piece falling over as he shut his eyes, ball up his fists, and take a deep sigh. "I don't like you."

"I don't care if you do. I'm just imploring you to not vilify every Galra that exists in the universe; that your blood isn't something that you should fear or be ashamed of; that long before this war and even now, there was pride in being a Galra, pride for our culture and our history, and just because of the actions of a few being Galra isn't something you should be ashamed of."

Keith's eyes narrowed at Lotor. "I don't understand you. I don't understand anything you do. Why be so nice to all of us now when just moments before you were trying to capture all of us and our Lions to bring back to your father?"

Lotor gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Merely a means for me to curry favor with Zarkon."

Keith's eyes only narrowed at that. "Why would you even want his approval when you make no attempt at disguising how much you hate him?"

Eyes darkening, Lotor merely stared at him. "You wouldn't understand."

Keith rolled his eyes at that. "Yea I don't understand what it's like to hate a parent. After all, I'm merely an orphan boy, who lost his dad as a kid and never knew his mom. I never once resented my own parents for leaving me alone in this world without so much as an explanation as to who I was."

The darkness in Lotor's eyes melted at Keith's words. It was just a glimmer, but Keith's eyes slightly widened at what he saw—a raw pain inside of Lotor that came and went with a quickness that had Keith blinking just to discern if what he was had even been real. "Forgive me for asking, but how did your father die?"

Lips parting, Keith stilled as the words refused to fall from his tongue. The memory still felt clear as day in his mind, but it was something he never liked to dwell on.

He could smell smoke and burnt wood tinging the air as he raced through the crowds of people and firefighters attempting to put out the raging fire like a cluster of rats. Heart pounding in his throat, his tiny legs burned as he raced toward the building.

 _"Dad!"_

 _His eyes widened at the sight of the building as it came into his view. Black smoke billowed out of the windows as shards of glass imploded and fell down to the street below. Firefighters shouting orders as a young woman appeared in a blown out window. Hair billowing behind her head like a renaissance painting, soot-smudged across her cheeks, she looked to be no older than a college student as the firefighters below urged her not to jump; that help was on the way. The crowd below let out a collective gasp of fright as the young woman jumped from the window below to a bunch of firefighters that were quickly assembling a thick blanket together to soften the blow of her fall. But Keith wasn't focused on that or any other point of the chaotic scene around him. No, he was focused on one thing only as he attempted to race toward the burning building. His little legs were burning from the strain as he could feel the heat of the flames radiating off of his skin; feel the burn of the smoke as it poured into his lungs; the warmth of another as a pair of strong arms wrapped around his midsection, sweeping him up into the air as soothing, entreating words from an elderly firefighter who worked at the same company as his dad pulled him away from the burning building._

 _There were honey-coated words being whispered in his ear; how his dad was a hero who would come out safe, despite the tears rolling down Keith's cheeks like droplets of rain._

 _None of that mattered when just a few days later, he found himself standing over the closed casket that housed his father. His tombstone already erected even as they began to lower the coffin into the ground. He felt angry, confused, and sad as he stared at the words emblazoned on it as if they were a taunt directly to him. Husband. Father. Hero. Those 3 words pierced through Keith's heart like tiny daggers. His father was dead. His personal hero gone. He chuckled wryly to himself as he realized he didn't even know where his mother was. All his father had ever told him and anyone who had dared to ask was, "She's out doing really important work in another place. She'll be back someday."_

 _She'd be back…._

 _His tears mingled in with the pouring rain. She wasn't here. The only thing he had to remember her by was the knife his father had given him that had belonged to her. His mother wasn't here and now Keith was all alone in the world. He felt a hand upon his shoulder as his Social Services worker came up behind him to let him know that it was time for him to leave. As they left, Keith took one final glance at the open hole in the ground in which his father lay, the tombstone, the dreary cemetery. All of it, before turning his back against fresh, painful memories that would never match the ones in his heart._

Lotor was silent as Keith's tale came to an end. His mouth twisting in a grim line of contemplation. No Galra parent would ever just abandon their child so willingly, to the Galra, their own children's lives were more precious than anything else in the universe. They'd be willing to destroy planets, entire universes, even give up their own lives if it meant saving that of their offspring. But he simply pushed that thought in the back of his head and instead focused on the fact that Keith grew up alone, without knowing anything about his Galra heritage or the parent who sired him, without knowing the great parts of Galra culture that Lotor deeply appreciated, their history and everything he held dear to him that vastly outweighed whatever bad the Galra had done in the eyes of the Paladins—and Lotor would admit there were many of those. He felt there was nothing he could say to Keith, nothing that would ease a lifetime of pain, so instead he found himself reaching out. His hand resting against Keith's shoulder. The Paladin glanced at his hand, fixed his gaze on Lotor, and raised a single brow at him as if he was giving Lotor merely a second to explain himself or Lotor would find himself stuffed into an airlock.

"I can...understand how you feel. It's no secret that Zarkon and I don't have a relationship nor the fact that I was banished from the empire for an extended length of time. But if you wish to ever talk about Galra culture...I will be here."

Keith simply stared at him, his mouth fixed into a thin line as he seemed to contemplate the offer, before giving Lotor a solitary nod. "That would be...nice."

Lotor simply nodded and turned away, uncertain of where his feet were going to carry him in his search for Lance.

"Hey." The single word had Lotor turning around to face Keith. "If you're looking for Lance...last I saw of him, he was going to the observation deck." Looking slightly abashed at the words that had just come out of his mouth, Keith avoided Lotor's gaze.

It caused a lopsided smile to stretch across Lotor's features. "Thanks." Mumbling something in response, Keith turned on his heels and retreated back into the kitchen as Lotor set off in the direction of the room that Keith had pointed him in.


	12. Pidge

The universe truly had a vendetta against him. It was the only thought that flashed into his mind as Lotor stepped into the observation deck, a blur of mapped out star systems and planets floating around his head as he watched entranced as a large, purple planet floated past his face. As he took another step forward, a high pitched growl of annoyance rang in his ears.

"Hey! Watch where your giant feet are going next time!"

Glancing down, he noticed that with just another step, he would have trampled on a pair of bare legs that following towards its owner turned out to belong to Pidge. There was a deep frown on her face as her fingers rested against a data pad that she'd clearly been working on.

"Why are you here? And your answer better not include Lance's name in it."

Raising a brow, Lotor sized up the Paladin. The large glasses that rested upon the edge of her nose, did little to subdue the inquisitive glimmer that seemed to incessantly burn in her eyes. It almost reminded Lotor of himself, as if he was staring at a youthful portrait of whom he once was. Before layers of bitter emotions and harsh reality had piled upon that youthful glow. He suspected that whatever happened aboard the ship, the Paladin had means of hearing about it far more quickly than anyone else. So it was of no surprise to him that she would know that he was searching for Lance.

"I'm looking for Lance." Pidge made a face that was a cross between disgust and contempt.

"Really? And why's that? Are you making plans to kidnap him again?"

Unable to help the twitch in the corner of his lips, he let his face fall back into a smooth, expressionless mask as he looked down his nose at Pidge. "I always knew you were the brightest among the other Paladins, but I suppose I should get rid of you now that you know my plans."

Shock flashed across Pidge's face as her eyes scanned around the room in search of something that she could use as a weapon to fend him off, so she could have enough time to slip her hand into her pocket and reach for her communicator. Almost comically, Pidge's eyes nearly bulged out of her head as she watched out of the corner of her eyes as Lotor held a hand over his mouth as he let out a deep chuckle. Her face went from shocked to furious as quickly as a river rising till it began to spill over the edge of an embankment.

"Was that supposed to be a joke!?"

He stared at her curiously, quite not understanding her harsh and rather upset reaction over what he deemed as a joke. Especially since he'd grown rather comfortable with Lance's brand of snark and tongue quick quips. "Yes. It was a joke, humans do make jokes frequently do they not?"

"They do," Pidge replied sharply, "but not at the expense of showing off how much of an asshole they are."

Bristling at her words, Lotor watched her as she gathered her things and stood up to leave. "And you know what, you're an asshole. No matter how much you go around, corner us individually, and try to play psychiatrist with us. You're not going to change my mind." She huffed as she stomped towards the doors leading out of the observation deck, they slid apart, revealing Lance standing on the other side. Even as Pidge stormed past him, leaving him to scrunch up his face in confusion as he watched one of his closest teammates that he regarded like the little sister he never had stormed off down the hall that lead to her room.

His confusion was tossed aside by a cold, simmering anger as he whirled his attention on Lotor. Pointing a single, accusatory finger at him. "What did you do?"

Scoffing incredulously, Lotor gave a soft shake of his head, locks of his hair brushing against his back. "What did I do? I'm simply trying to connect with the rest of your teammates like you told me to. Trying to understand how the Galra empire hurt them all. How am I supposed to understand her when she seemingly has more hatred for me than Keith did?"

A flicker of surprise danced in Lance's eyes at Lotor's remark about Keith, but that was another topic for him to pry about later. "Did you say anything to her? That would set her off like that? She doesn't just get that mad for no reason."

Not quite understanding where Lance was going with this. "Besides making a joke about her discovering my plans to kidnap you again, I don't see how anything could upset her—"

Cutting him off with a weary groan, Lance pinched at the bridge of his nose before hooking his thumb over his shoulder. "Go apologize to her. Pidge is the closest thing on the ship I have to a little sister, so how do you think she's going to take it when you make a joke about kidnapping me after I just spent a bunch of time on a ship as a hostage and she's had her own family get kidnapped by the Galra. How did you think she was going to take that joke?" Shaking his head again, Lance let his hand drop to his side before he had a dismissive gesture in Lotor's direction. "I get that you're trying to connect with everyone on the ship, but Pidge has been through a lot. We all have. And because of that, we're going to take what you do in different ways; take what you say in different ways. So right now, the best thing you can do is go talk to Pidge, apologize, and listen to whatever she has to say _if_ she decides to talk to you after."

There was a grim line that tugged at the edges of Lotor's lips. "We need to talk."

"Whatever you need to say to me can wait until after you deliver your apology to Pidge."

Sighing, Lotor crossed his arms in front of his chest as if apologizing to Pidge was a highly dangerous quest above Lotor's class level that Lance had just sent him on. It caused Lance to break out in a lopsided grin as he realized that Lotor truly was _trying_. "I'll be in the kitchen later if you need to come and find me."

Giving him a small nod, Lotor watched as Lance left and the doors to the observation deck slid shut. There was a growl of frustration that rumbled lowly in his throat over this whole complex affair. He wondered if he'd been brought up differently, raised with a loving family similar to Lance's own if this whole torrid affair wouldn't seem like an insurmountable obstacle to him. He supposed it wouldn't do well to dwell on the "what if's" of his own life, but decided that it was better to let the wound bleed rather than fester.

Making his way out of the observation deck, he made his way down the hall that he'd seen Pidge walk down and traced his steps until he found himself standing in front of her room door. Raising a fist, he knocked once, twice, before Pidge's voice came muffled through the door. "Go away, Lotor. I'm not talking to you. Even if Lance sent you to apologize."

"I'm here on my own cognizance," Lotor explained. "Though Lance did also tell me that it would be in both of our best interests that I come to you and apologize."

Silence fell between them as Lotor lingered outside her door. Minutes seemed to pass as Lotor stood there, presuming that Pidge had nothing to say to him nor any desire to speak to him, he turned with the knowledge that forging a bridge between him and the youngest of the Paladins was nothing more than a wild dream that he'd tried to bring into reality. As he took a step away from her door, he heard the door hiss apart and turned his head to see Pidge standing in the doorway of her room. Her face was pinched, her mouth set into a firm line, and her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"I'm listening." She grumbled.

Turning on his feet to face her, he relaxed his posture slightly to at least indicate that he wasn't a threat to her. Something that Pidge's sharp nature observed as he did so. "I'm sorry."

Her face remained unreadable, even as she remained in her doorway, leaving him bristling as he waited for her to either accept his apology or deny it. She hummed contemplatively, as she idly lifted a hand to tap the tip of an index finger against her chin. "I'll accept it...on the condition that you teach me everything you know about Galra tech."

Raising his brow in surprise, Lotor could do little more than to articulate the single word that flashed across his mind. "What?"

"You." Pidge pulled her index finger away from her chin and pointed it at Lotor's chest. "Teach me." She pointed her finger at herself. "About Galra tech and I'll accept your apology."

There was a huff of surprise from Lotor. "Are you trying to bribe me?"

Shrugging her shoulders, her face melted into a smirk. "I don't know. You tell me?"

He scoffed. "I'm actually impressed that you thought to bribe me."

"I get what you and Lance are trying to do. I get it. But it's going to take me a lot longer than the rest of my team to at least begin liking you. Face it, my track record with the Galra Empire is already in the negatives after having my dad, brother and then Lance kidnapped from me by your empire. So sorry if I don't warm up to you unlike the rest of my team. Instead—" She pointed at his chest once more. "—You actually work for it."

That pulled a laugh from Lotor, a genuine laugh that was more of a surprise for Pidge than it was for him. "Fine. I'll take you up on your bribe then."

"Shake on it then." Sticking out one of her hands, she waited for him to grasp it, wiggling her fingers impatiently at him. Reaching out Lotor grasped her smaller hand in his, nearly crushing her hand under his larger one.

"I suppose this is a deal?" Her brows were raised, her gaze flickering up toward his face.

"It's a deal."

Her eyes seemed to narrow further as she studied him. "By the way, Lotor. You better not hurt Lance. Ever. Again."

There was an intensity behind Pidge's words that had Lotor surprised. She sounded far more wise beyond her years than she should be and held an energy of ruthlessness to her that had his thoughts turning toward Axca.

"Good." Pidge hummed as she pulled her hand out from Lotor's grasp. "Because if you so much as hurt Lance in any way. I will personally invent a subatomic disintegrator so I have the pleasure of watching every single bit of your atoms dispersing into nothingness."

Unfazed by the threat, he simply cocked a brow at her and retorted. "No threats for me in regards to the other Paladins? Coran, even?"

Pidge merely smirked at him. "They don't need it." With that she turned on her feet and headed inside of her room before the door to her room hissed shut, she remarked behind her back. "Don't forget our deal."

Letting out a small chuckle of approval, Lotor doubted that he hardly would. That or he was certain that he would find himself awakening to some form of a message from Pidge that reminded him of their shared deal. Chuckling as he walked away from her door, Lotor made a mental note to inform Lance of their rather intriguing conversation and the threat looming over his head courtesy of the youngest Paladin.

It seemed he'd been underestimating them all.

The Paladins proved to be far more interesting than he'd ever realized.


	13. Hunk

Entering the kitchen, Lotor expected Lance to be there but instead found Hunk standing behind a counter. Several open containers of steaming food lined up beside one another as the Paladin was busily shoveling clumps of a puffy, cloud-like food object into the container he was currently holding. Aromatic smells wafted over from the container that reminded Lotor of a distant stay he had on a planet, in which they produced a stunning dish of crispy, sauteed vegetables native to the planet.

"Oh! Lotor!" Hunk lifted his head, his body jerking in surprise to see Lotor standing in the kitchen. No one else was there, of course, seemingly the dim lights lining the halls of the castle ship simulated a nighttime environment and from the containers of food on the counter, Lotor surmised that Hunk was putting up what remained of the dinner that the Paladins hadn't eaten. So it was no surprise to him that everyone wouldn't be in their respective rooms as of now, retiring for the night.

Quickly moving to place down the container and the wooden spoon he'd been using to scoop the remnants of the meal in the container, it was a raised hand from Lotor that caused Hunk to stop in mid-action. "Please, don't stop on my account."

Shoulder's slumping as he released an audible sigh of relief. Hunk's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. He made gestures toward the container in front of him. "I'm just putting up some leftovers from dinner. Do you want any? Not that I'm assuming that you haven't had a meal today or anything...but there's no harm in asking."

Giving him a small shake of his head, Lotor replied. "I'm fine. I'm rather accustomed now to having a rather odd time for meals, especially when I've spent more portions of my life escaping pursuers."

Looking rather alarmed at his words, Hunk did nothing more than blink in shock, nod, and make a sweeping gesture at the food yet again. "Well, if you ever find yourself hungry at some point of the night. I keep all leftover food and snacks in the fridge." Hunk pointed to the large, silver contraption behind him. "So feel free to help yourself to them. I'm sure no one would mind." Hunk trailed off, leaving the unsaid portion of his sentence hanging in the air about Lotor being more than slightly hesitant to share a meal with all of the Paladins at once.

Hunk chuckled uncomfortably as he resumed refilling the container he'd just set down. "So I suppose I'm the last one you have to talk to?"

"No. There's you of course, but Lance is left."

The wooden spoon slipt from Hunk's grip, clattering against the stove, it bounced off and fell to the floor. Hunk's brows were pinched together. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Especially after everything that Lance has been through? Are you certain dragging him through every single one of his most painful memories is a good thing for him now?" There was a bitter chuckle that tumbled past Hunk's lips. His gaze flickering to the wooden spoon that lay against the floor like a puppet that had its strings cut. "Are you sure Lance is even going to open up to you?" His gaze lifted from the floor to Lotor's face, where something weary and slightly hopeless danced in the smoldering fire of his gaze. "Since he came back...he hasn't even opened up to us about anything that happened to him. He's not the same Lance that we all knew before. He's not his happy, go-lucky self, he doesn't like close contact like he used to unless he's the one to initiate it." He shook his head, his mouth settling into a glum line. "Whatever happened to Lance aboard that ship it broke him and put him back together as something else."

"That's what war does," Lotor answered softly, knowing all too well the litany of old scars that his body sported that were a testament of his own complicated history. "It breaks you apart and puts you back together as something different."

"Well, I don't know if I like it," Hunk muttered bitterly as he bent down to scoop up the wooden spoon. "It just—" Hunk began before shaking his head with a defeated sigh, letting his unfinished sentence die in the hollow interior of his throat.

"If Lance won't talk to any of you, he'll surely talk to me."

"What makes you so sure about that?" Hunk questioned, his lips pursed pensively.

"Lance and I...have been through similar experiences."

The look of alarm on Hunk's face was enough to make anyone else besides Lotor feel guilty about holding back what Lance had truly experienced with Zorak aboard Lotor's ship. "He told us before...well rather yelled it, that he'd been tortured before; showed us some of his scars too, but….do I—do I even want to know?" Hunk's words were no more than a mere whisper.

It earned him a shake from Lotor's head. "Not until Lance feels ready, or ever feels ready to tell you all what happened. It has to be on his terms. If you force him—" Lotor didn't need to say the rest of his warning as Hunk nodded in understanding despite it.

"I just—I just want to be there for Lance; he's like a brother to me and when he was taken away from us. It was like a part of myself got ripped away. I want to be there for him when he needs it just like how I was for Shay."

Lotor raised a brow at the unfamiliar name, which caused Hunk to crack a lopsided smile and apologize. "Sorry, Shay's a native of Balmera."

Lotor nodded. "A former slave colony if my memory serves me correct."

"Yea," Hunk nodded. "We went there a while back and liberated Shay and her people. It was tough for them, it still is. Shay and I talk sometimes when we can through our communication devices. She went through a lot." Brows pinching together, Hunk shook his head. "I just don't get it. Why do innocent people like Shay...like Lance, have to suffer so much because of this war? Can't the Galra just...get what they want by coexisting with others?"

Lotor smiled bitterly at Hunk's train of thought. "Once upon a time; when Allura's father was still alive that may have been a possibility, or we still could have ended up with a centuries-long war." He shrugged his shoulders. "The lives of innocents are merely an unfortunate byproduct of a war started by greed and hubris. There are some Galra who will never know the horrors of what truly transgressed due to the war, some who live in comfort and ignorance while millions die in some distant outpost planet they never heard of."

Drawing in a single breath through clenched teeth, Hunk shook his head. "That's horrible."

"It is. But it's the realities of war."

Shaking his head again. Hunk pursed his lips. "This all feels so foreign to me. Growing up my mom always instilled in me the important core values of our culture—" Hunk lifted a hand, curling back a finger with each topic that he listed. "Honor, respect, and family. We were always taught that peace has to come before violence; that there's always a peaceful solution to everything and that violence is a last resort." Hunk let out a defeated sigh as his hand dropped to his side. The corner of his lip twitching into a tired smirk. "I really should have rethought my career choice. I thought going into the Garrison, it would lead me to some peacekeeping work where I could actually forge bridges between people, make alliances, and change the world. But here? Here, I never thought I'd be dragged into a war where'd I actually have to fight. How can I change the universe and make it peaceful when all we're doing is just fighting the other side while everyone around is suffering and dying?"

"Hunk," Lotor called the Paladin's name firmly, forcing the Paladin out of his own spiraling thoughts as he lifted his head. "Didn't you just say that you liberated Balmera from the Empire?"

He nodded.

"If you liberated Balmera, surely you've liberated other planets as well. Just because you feel like your efforts are in vain doesn't mean they are. It isn't too late to promote nor forge peace in a war that never seems like it will ever end—and it will—you mustn't ever lose hope. For the moment you lose hope in a war, is the moment the war is lost itself."

Humming, Hunk looked a little relieved at Lotor's words. "You know...that was actually what I kind of needed to hear. Thanks."

The somewhat blissful moment fell into a comfortable lull of silence as Hunk tossed the wooden spoon into a sink, retrieved a new one and proceeded to begin filling up the rest of the containers he had set aside with various leftover food items. The various smells wafting toward Lotor's nose. He had walked close to the counter, leaned against it, his elbow resting against the chrome counter as he rested his cheek against the palm of his hand. Hunk's warm, friendly spirit enveloped him into something that Lotor had nearly forgotten while being on the run. The warm, closeness that he had with his generals that usually thinking of would result in a lump forming in the hollow of his throat.

Instead, he felt at peace at having to not dwell on such painful memories. The silence between them was broken by the audible rumbling of Lotor's stomach and Hunk's intoxicating laughter. "So, how about that dinner, huh?"


	14. Lance

The hem of his robe brushed against his ankles as he trudged through the dim halls of the castle ship. His shoulders were slumped with the weight of exhaustion upon them as Lance attempted to blink the few hours of sleep that he had gotten from his eyes. The events of the past week hung wearily on his shoulders, combined with the lack of sleep that he was now becoming accustomed to not getting. Underneath his royal blue robe, he was dressed in a blue cotton t-shirt with a pair of blue pajama pants that had a pattern of white cartoonish lion heads printed on them. At the early hours of the morning with nothing to do but toss around fruitlessly in his bed, and refusing to be left in the darkness of his room with little more than his own thoughts to keep him company, he decided to make the short trek to the kitchen and rifle through the container of treats that he knew Hunk always kept in the back of the fridge.

As he stepped into the kitchen, a pair of glowing eyes boring through the darkness of the room startled him, causing him to jump back and let out a scream as he quickly slapped his hand against the wall next to him and fumbled for the pad that would initiate the lights. His fingers brushed against it causing the room to become awash in the bright, white glow of the overhead lights above, revealing to Lance that he wasn't the only figure in the room.

Lotor was leaning against the kitchen counter, open containers of food that Hunk had made for dinner in front of him. He gesticulated wildly at Lotor. "Why are you in the dark? More importantly, why were your eyes glowing?"

Setting his fork down into the contents of one of the containers, there was a bemused expression on Lotor's face as he turned to address Lance. "Our eyes are different from yours." He remarked, collectively referring to the Galra as a whole. "We've adapted to see in the dark from a time when very little light was able to reach our home planet. So forgive me for causing your rather...humorous reaction."

"Oh my god," Lance huffed, pressing the flat of his hand against his chest. "Next time please turn on a light or something. I nearly had a heart attack. Wait—" his brows bunched together. "Please don't tell me Keith can do that freaky, eye glowing thing too?"

Shrugging his shoulders, the bemused expression on Lotor's face only seemed to grow brighter. "There's a possibility, given Keith's Galra heritage."

"Oh my god," Lance mumbled again as he pressed his hand a little harder against his chest. "I'm going to die because the two of you have freaky, glowing eyes."

"Only when it's dark." Lotor corrected, which earned him an eye roll from Lance.

"More importantly," Lance motioned to the kitchen. "Why are you here, this late at night besides clearly enjoying Hunk's leftovers from dinner?" Lance motioned toward the containers resting on the counter.

"You're the last one left."

Lance frowned at Lotor's cryptic words, standing there silently as Lotor continued to look at him. Realization hit him like a blast to the chest.

"No," Lance shook his head sternly, "there's nothing we _need_ or _have_ to talk about."

It was Lotor's turn to frown, or rather the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled as he sensed the underlying tremor of fear in Lance's words. "Are you afraid, Lance?"

Eyes darkening, his mouth slightly twitching at a corner, Lance spat out, "I'm not afraid of anything."

"Then talk to me." The plea and sincerity in Lotor's words was enough to make Lance more agitated than soothed.

Giving a firm shake of his head, Lance spun on his heels preparing to leave the kitchen. "I'm not doing this, Lotor. Not now. Not ever."

"Lance." Lotor twisted his name into a sound of protest as he took a step forward; crossing the room in as few strides as possible given the length of his legs. Reaching out, the tips of his fingers barely brushed against Lance's neck as he tried to prevent the Paladin from leaving. It was a foolish move really, especially when he knew that he and Lance were merely the same sides of a coin. Especially in regards to their burgeoning shared history of trauma. Something between them snapped, Lotor's eyes widened as Lance spun around, his hands wrapping around Lotor's outstretched wrist as he sent Lotor arching through the air with a surge of adrenaline that otherwise would have made Lance unable to support moving Lotor's larger frame in any capacity. With an audible crash, Lotor's back collided with the hard metal of the floor.

He was grateful that he was still donning his armor as it absorbed most of the impact, only leaving him a little winded as he uprighted himself and swiveled his torso to take in Lance's shaking form.

"Lance?" His name fell from Lotor's lips like a lost love calling out through a parting crowd that for a few brief moments reveals the lover's long-lost sweetheart, only for the crowd to whisk them back into a sea of people to be lost once more. "Lance?" Lotor called out his name once more as he took in the foggy glaze that swirled over Lance's eyes, the trembling of his limbs, the way his lips lost their pallor and were a pallid gray. He peered into Lance's eyes but could see nothing there.

Light didn't exist in them and if anything they looked distant and far away as if Lance wasn't even mentally on the castle ship, but somewhere else instead. It didn't take a scholar for Lotor to know what other place, what other memories had to be strangling themselves in Lance's mind. "Lance," Lotor called his name once more. The words falling softly from his lips with such a soft, reverence to them that Lance hardly noticed it. Lance was shaking, beads of sweat rising to the surface of his skin as he shook his head.

"I—I should go." Lance's words came out rushed as he sped past Lotor and out into the hallway.

Quickly jumping up to his feet, Lotor chased after him. Catching up with Lance just a few doors away from the kitchen, he called out Lance's name again. Lance slowed down at the sound of his own name, his shoulders slumped as he turned to face Lotor with a weariness on his face that made him look far older than his years. "You're not okay."

There was a dark look that washed over Lance's face at Lotor's words. "I hear that enough from my friends. I don't need to hear that from you." He turned away from Lotor, clearly done with a conversation they had yet to have. But a firm grip on his shoulder kept him in place. His eyes flickered to the gloved hand gripping his shoulder, traveling up the length of the arm before his eyes settled on Lotor's face.

"I may not be your friend Lance, but I understand you far more than they do right now."

Lance snorted. Derision as plain as day on his face, but Lotor could tell it was there as a barrier, a defense mechanism, and a means to lash out so that Lance wouldn't have to confront the issue at hand. "That's pretty funny considering I _don't know you_."

There was something that just caused Lotor to look at Lance, with a solicitous look upon his face. "I know more about you than they do. Just like you know more about me than anyone else."

Lance's mind was racked with flashing images of Lotor crying in his cell aboard that ship. Of someone with centuries of scars branded into their soul, that it made Lance surprised that Lotor was the way he was when he could have easily been so much...worse. But Lance didn't want help. He didn't want to talk about his problems. Didn't want to talk about his emotions. He wanted to ignore them and hope that somewhere down the road, ignoring them would help him forget it all.

Forget the night terrors. The nights he would go without sleep. The nights he woke up covered in sweat as bile burned the back of his throat as he looked around his room in the darkness, half expecting Zorak to be looming over him with a sadistic grin stretched across that bastard's face.

He just wanted to forget it all. But here was Lotor, wanting to drag all his problems back out into the light, even if it meant they were dragged out kicking and screaming.

But right now, he just wanted Lotor to hurt as much as he did. "Is that what you told your general before she died?"

There was something dark that flashed in Lotor's eyes that had Lance worried for a second that he had broken open an emotionally scarring door for Lotor in his desire to make him hurt as much as he was hurting.

Instead, Lotor whispered something that Lance couldn't catch. "What?" Lance's lips puckered together as Lotor repeated what he had just said, but Lance still couldn't hear him. "What did you say?"

"Her name was Narti," Lotor growled, his fangs glinting underneath the dim lights, his grip on Lance's shoulder tightened to the point that Lance's knees buckled underneath the weight. "And as far as I'm concerned you don't have any right to speak about her."

Lance's mouth flew open, a storm of arguments and painful insults burgeoning on his lips to lash out and flay at Lotor's skin. But his grip merely tightened even further, enough that it had Lance wincing in pain from the force of it, but Lotor didn't relent. Instead, he peered down at Lance like a school teacher would do to a child they were about to scold. "I understand you're hurting, but trying to lash out, emotionally, at me will get you nowhere. You're in pain and it may seem like no one else understands you, but I do." The corner of Lotor's lip twitched as he tilted his chin to stare in Lance's eyes. "And you can't just keep all of your emotions and allow them to fester inside of you. It will only boil and bubble until one day the vessel you hold it in breaks." Letting his hand slip from Lance's shoulder, he sighed. "I take it you hardly sleep and you have nightmares as well?"

Lance's eyes narrowed at him. "How do you know?"

"War scars the soul. You can't walk away from it without having a mark on your own."

Blinking at him, Lance retorted, "Like what you did to Narti?"

Lotor sighed, his lip twitching as his eyes briefly shut. "You wouldn't understand."

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Lance's brows scrunched together as he puckered his lips together in a manner that made him resemble a child about to throw a tantrum. "Then make me understand. The more information you keep from me—from the rest of us—the less we understand you. Deep down, there's good in you."

That had Lotor throwing his head back, a laugh spilling from his lips as he pressed a hand against his abdomen as his laughter subsided. "Lance, don't think in idealist terms like Allura. In the universe there is no good nor is their evil. There's no war that pits those two concepts against each other like the pages of a fairy tale would have you believe." That dark looked returned to Lotor's eyes; that look that made Lance feel like a child standing before someone who easily had seen thousands of years pass by. Clasping his hands behind his back, Lotor continued. "Do you truly think there are times that Voltron hasn't committed actions that in others eyes are as evil as anything the Galra could have done?

"Do you truly think that those countless Galra ships that you've destroyed didn't contain people who were merely civilians? People who didn't have family waiting back at home for them? Mere grunts who weren't involved in warfare? For every life that you or Voltron has taken, Lance, there's a story behind the victims. In war, there is no good person, just like there isn't a bad one."

Lance merely stared at him, a look of defeat wiping over his face as he let out a shaky breath and leaned against the wall next to him. He'd never put too much thought to his actions. He'd simply point his trigger at the enemy or destroy a warship with a Lion, but he'd never thought about the people on the other side of the war. His stomach danced inside of him as he imagined a little Galra child desperately clinging to their parent as the ship rumbled and shook before the entire thing went up in a ball of flames. "I—I never thought about that." He breathed out.

"There's no use in beating yourself up over it." Lotor merely sighed. "What's in the past is done and whatever may come up in the future is not up to any of us to prevent, the only thing we can do is hope that the goals we strive for now impact it and create a better future, built upon a desire for peace."

"So…" Lance's lips flattened into a thin, pink line as he contemplated the words that were ready to tumble from his lips. "Was that why you killed your general?"

"No," Lotor stated firmly, his gaze flitting away from Lance's face as he stared into the distance. "It was for entirely different reasons." Eyes fluttering closed for a few brief seconds, he looked as if he was wrestling with himself; wrestling with words that he didn't wish to utter out into the air.

"You don't—" Lance began, but Lotor gave him a single shake of his head that had Lance's lips slowly pressing shut.

"As a child, I had very little access to privacy due—" He shuddered, looking more disgusted than Lance had ever seen him act before, "—to Haggar. Anyone that ever got close to me, I would soon learn was never truly a friend, but rather a spy that Haggar had ensured would be around me, privy to my inner secrets and would inform her of the very second I took so much as a single breath. That changed, however—or at least I thought it had changed—when I found my generals. Acxa, Zethrid, Ezor, and Narti." He frowned when he got to Narti's name. "The location of my ship got compromised, as I'm sure you can recollect." Lance nodded at that. "No one besides I or my generals were privy to the location of the ship and the moment it came under attack I knew that our location had to have been compromised by one of them, but—" He trailed off.

"It had to be difficult for you to even assume that one of them would betray you?" Lance probed, the question falling from his tongue as Lotor's brows pressed together and he gave a firm nod.

"Yes. When that happened, something just...made sense inside of me. When I laid eyes on Narti, I think a part of me knew. She'd been the perfect mole, someone who was blind and mute and instead relied on her cat for most of her senses. We were _close_ ," Lotor's voice cracked on the single word, just slightly enough that Lance could hear it, there was a wry smile that tugged at the edges of his lips. "We were close. Close enough to the point that I considered them more of a family than Zarkon who shared the same blood as me. Close enough that I was privy to their private information and they were as equally privy to mine. But when I looked at Narti...I just _knew_ that those countless hours spent together, fighting alongside one another, bleeding for each other had been wrapped up in a lie."

There were locks of hair that had fallen in front of Lotor's face as he spoke, a dying light flickering in his eyes that made Lance want to reach out, brush the locks away from his face, and cup his hand against Lotor's cheek in a gesture of warmth. But his fingers merely twitched with the thought of the action as he continued to listen to Lotor.

"I felt trapped." Lotor's words were softer now, a whisper in the hallway that still sounded loud to both of their ears. "Something I always felt since I was a child. Like I was pinned down to one of the witch's tables and was no more than another experiment for her to torment. I felt that there were no choices I could make but one. If I left Narti alive, who knew how long it would be before she found us? Before she lead all of us to the witch's clutches?" The exhaustion was apparent in his words and for once Lance wondered how long Lotor had truly spent running...from the Galra, from the Empire, from...everything. He couldn't fathom spending centuries running, looking over his shoulder terrified that just around the corner there was someone who was using him, exploiting him, for their own desires. He wondered how often Lotor had to change the masks he wore to please those around him, to just live for another day without the threat that the person he was speaking to would stab him in the back once he turned. But even then, it wasn't guaranteed that they wouldn't. Lotor had probably worn masks for so long that the tiny voice in the back of Lance's mind had to remind him that he truly didn't know Lotor's true personality. He didn't know him fully.

He wondered if Lotor wondered the same question.

Did he even know who he was himself?

As Lotor lifted his head to gaze in Lance's eyes, something stirred inside of him. Something that he would reflect on later down the road. He wanted to tear down the walls that Lotor surrounded himself with; tear away his masks and the sharp daggers that he cloaked himself with as a means of protection. Sure, his generals were the closest to him than anyone else could have potentially been, but even Lance knew that they could never have torn away all of Lotor's masks and walls—not fully—he would have never let them. But some part of him wanted to see beyond all of that, wanted to see who Lotor was down at his rawest, purified form.

He wanted that.

And as he spent the night standing there, listening to Lotor's soft murmurings as he poured his heart out to Lance, he felt he'd made a crack in one of Lotor's walls. It was small, but it was enough that with time and patience, the stones around it would crumble and break. Little by little, he would break through the walls until he would one day find himself standing in front of his goal.

To his complete and utter surprise, the lights in the halls of the ship brightened, indicating to its passengers that it was morning.

Lance's eyes flickered up to the lights as he tightened the belt of his robe, before turning to Lotor. "I didn't realize it was morning already. You should get some rest."

Despite the tiredness in Lotor's eyes, he flashed Lance a half-smile. "I would suggest the same to you as well, Lance. I've already rested for three vargas."

Jerking his head back as if he'd been personally insulted by Lotor's lack of sleep, Lance blinked at him, once, and then twice. "Three vargas!?"

Giving a small shrug of his shoulders as if he didn't think it was a big deal, Lotor merely replied, "it's quite difficult for me to sleep. I'm used to sleeping that long for my own personal reasons."

Lance wondered if those reasons had to do with Lotor wanting to be prepared for any threat that could potentially occur to him in his sleep. His mouth soured as he remembered the sharpened spoon that he had held against Lotor's throat. Quickly brushing the memory aside, Lance frowned at Lotor's immaculate skin and complexion, despite the Galra's lack of beauty rest. "Then how the hell is your skin so smooth and gorgeous?" Lance's eyes slightly widened as his brain caught up with his mouth.

Lotor's brows raised by a fraction of an inch as he continued to give Lance that half-smile of his. "I suppose we should part though, I do have some personal effects that I wish to move to my room."

Lance nodded at that, knowing full well that after Allura, Shiro, and Coran had decided that Lotor wasn't that big of a threat to them—or more appropriately after Lotor killed Zarkon—that he didn't deserve to be locked away in a cell and all three of them had offered Lotor a room aboard the ship. Not quite ready to part from Lotor's side just yet, Lance returned Lotor's smile with one of his own. "Since you're not going to get any sleep and I'm bound to not go back to sleep, let me help you move your stuff."

Giving a soft shake of his head, enough that locks of his hair just brushed against his shoulders and back, Lotor politely declined. "There isn't much that needs to be moved."

Waving away his concerns, however, Lance remained firm in his offer to help. "It's no problem. Besides, the quicker we move your stuff, the more time you have to relax."

Lotor looked like he was going to protest the offer, but he nodded his head in reluctance. They made their way down to the hangar, where to Lance's complete and utter surprise that he found Lotor wasn't joking about not having much to move. He had a handful of books and a small glass orb that looked like there was a tiny, swirling galaxy inside of it. They headed to Lotor's room, it was no different from Lance's own except for the fact that it was bare of any personal effects, save for the ones that he and Lotor held in their hands. Walking to the far side of the room, Lotor reached out and ran his fingers against the wall, pulling them away as a shelf retracted from it. Lining his books up neatly on the shelf, he thanked Lance for helping him carry his stuff.

Lance shrugged, merely reaching out to deposit the orb in Lotor's outstretched hand, watching the Galra turn and place the orb on the shelf so that it propped up a book that looked ready to fall over. "It's not that big of a deal," Lance responded, though he was no longer interested in staring at Lotor's form. Instead, his gaze was fixed upon the strange alien lettering that ran up and down the length of the spine of the books.

It seemed oddly familiar to him. Walking over to Lotor's side, he reached up, brushing his fingers against one. His fingers traced the gold lettering of the words. "What are these?" The intrigue in his voice was palpable to Lotor's ears.

Humming appreciatively, he clasped his hands behind his back as his eyes followed the subtle movements of Lance's fingers. "They're old Altean books."

Lance's brows shot up in intrigue. "You understand Altean?"

"To some extent, but I don't have the same level of ability over it that Allura or Coran possess."

Nodding at that, Lance kept his attention focused on the books. "They seem really old," Lance mumbled more to himself than he did to Lotor, who heard it anyway.

Drawing in a deep breath, Lance stilled as he turned his head to see Lotor's face beside his own. His own eyes were focused upon the book that Lance's fingers were brushing against. "They belonged to my mother."

Whistling lowly, Lance wrenched his fingers away from the spine of the book. "Your mother was Altean?" He carefully studied Lotor's features, seeing that some of his own matched up with Allura's. His ears were far more pointed than any Galra Lance had ever encountered as well as the coloration of his eyes.

Lotor nodded as the two of them fell into a comfortable silence before Lance cut through it with a hot knife. "What was it like growing up? With you being half Galra and half Altean?"

Tearing his gaze away from Lance's face, Lotor looked pensive as fell silent, only to respond a few seconds later. "It was difficult. Long before I was born, the Galra were more tolerant of racial diversity amongst the population when Altea still existed and both races were friendly with one another. It was a time when there were more Galra hybrids existed beyond I and my generals." Lotor's eyes glazed over as if he was dreaming of a past that he wished he could have experienced. "In such times, we would have been accepted regardless of the blood that runs through our veins. But make no mistake that not all Galra think in such similar parameters, only the ones that believe in the so-called _purity_ of Galra blood do."

That earned a nod from Lance, who remarked, "That sounds a lot like how Earth is—" he furrowed his brow, "—or well how it used to be."

Simply raising a single, white brow, Lotor cocked his head to the side at Lance's statement. An alluring smile gracing across the expanse of his lips. "How so? What is Earth like?"

Pursuing his lips, Lance looked contemplative as his brain attempted to formulate a simple sentence to explain the complexity that wrapped itself up into a neat little orb and declared itself his home planet. "Earth is...diverse in a lot of ways." He nodded to himself at the explanation he was giving. "There are aspects of Galra society that remind me of Earth a lot. Earth in the past—and well even now still in some smaller aspects—had a long history of oppressing people for who they were whether it was because of their race, ethnicity, gender identity, or sexuality. At some point, there were major wars fought over one thing or another because of the oppression."

"Similar to the war you find yourself entangled in now?"

Lance nodded, trudging along with his explanation. "Even now there are still some assholes that exist on Earth that believe you can't identify in a single way because they feel that it impacts them, or that it goes against their own personal belief or even science." Lotor wrinkled his nose at that, his face scrunching up lightly at Lance's mention of science being used to support bigotry and oppression. It caused a smile to stretch across Lance's face.

"It seems that Earth and the Galra have a lot more in common that I never realized." Lotor sniffed with a slight scowl on his face. His gaze shifted toward Lance's face as he watched the Paladin's eyes slightly widen. His lips parted slightly as the tip of pink tongue darted out between the parted flesh to wet his lips.

Cheeks starting to slightly pinken, Lance jerked his head away from Lotor's gaze as a gentle fire flickered to life in his stomach. There was a nagging voice in the back of his mind that reminded him of his earlier apprehensions regarding Lotor. He knew nothing about the former exiled Galra prince, now emperor. It was that same nagging in the back of his mind that kept his reservations regarding how little he knew about Lotor—about anything really—that should've kept him alert and on his toes.

But he couldn't disregard how easy it was for him to relax around Lotor; how easy it was for the two of them to talk and have a conversation with one another. It was a similar relationship that he had with Pidge and Matt, but yet...it wasn't. It felt deeper than his connection with two people he viewed as an extension of his own family. But there was an undercurrent to it that made Lance feel like he was swimming in a pool filled with murky liquid, that if he just dunked his head underneath it, it would be a lottery as to what he would see beneath the darkness. A desire to assuage fire flickering in his stomach, Lance reached up and plucked the book that he'd been admiring just a mere second earlier down from the shelf. He held it out toward Lotor, "This book seems interesting. What's it about?"

There was a fond gaze in Lotor's eyes as he gingerly took the book from Lance's hand. Gently he pressed the fingers of his right hand against the cover as he lightly traced the golden words on it with the tips of his gloved fingers. "This," he breathed out, in a voice that was gripped by a raw expression of fondness, "was my mother's favorite book." Opening the cover, Lotor idly flipped through a few pages that were covered in handwritten notes that littered the margins. As he flipped past page after page, the fondness in his eyes seemed to mix with a bitter expression of loss and sadness. "My mother was a brilliant alchemist who was the first to discover and revolutionize the way Altean's, the Galra, and thousands of other races and species viewed Quintessence. These books were her own research notes, a collection of her own thoughts and discoveries." There was a half-smile that slipped across his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's one of the few possessions that I hold that once belonged to her."

Lance's brows furrowed at Lotor's words. "Don't you have any pictures of her or anything?"

A dark look swept over Lotor's face at those words, as if he was being reminded of something he'd rather forget. His words were clipped as he spoke, "No. Zarkon made certain that our empire's once friendly history with the Altean's was warped so that our people could view the destruction of Daibazaal and the treatment of our people as justifications for this war. So much of our friendly history with Altea was scrubbed and purged from the empire...including many pictures of my mother." There was hopeful glint that flashed across his eyes. "But when I ascend to the throne, I plan for that history to be unburied and spoken with truth. I will find any artifacts or recollections that still exist of Altea and Daibazaal's history together." Gripped up within the fervor and emotion of his own words, Lotor shifted his gaze to stare at Lance's face.

There was something so pure, bright, and unfiltered flickering behind his eyes as Lance absorbed Lotor's words. There was something so...pure and unfettered about the passion and hope that was raw and present in Lotor's words. "I'll help you...you know," Lance said after quite some time. "When you ascend to the throne. I'll help you look for any artifacts or stuff that belonged to your mom."

The half-smile that was present on Lotor's face transformed into a full one as he nodded. "Thank you, Lance."

As Lance stared at him and pondered over Lotor's words, he realized the appeal of having Lotor on the throne. While there were some mannerisms and ideas that he possessed that Lance necessarily didn't agree with him on, he was by far the most potential pick for the new leader of the empire. He was fair and liberal, yet had a firm hand when it was necessary. He wasn't as sadistic or needlessly cruel as other Galra commanders were and could be. In Lance's opinion, he was the best option that Voltron had for a new ruler of the Galra Empire, but he knew his fellow teammates wouldn't see eye to eye with him.

As he gently set the book back onto the shelf, Lance let out a weary yawn as he threw his arms over his head and stretched. "Well, I think it's time for me to get going and take a shower."

Turning to face him, Lotor cocked a brow in his direction. "It's early, isn't it?"

Lance gave him a shrug of his shoulders as the half-truth of the matter bloomed onto the tip of his tongue. "I like taking early morning showers." As Lance made his way over to the door, he paused for a brief moment and turned around. "Thanks."

"For?"

"Talking to me."

"Why?"

Lance shrugged his shoulders as a lopsided smile brushed across his face. "I guess I just needed it."

* * *

 **A/N: Wow, I really seemed to have dropped the ball on uploading chapters here. I'll try to catch up on the chapter count here since my A03 account has several more chapters uploaded there. Tomorrow I'll probably be dropping the remaining 4 chapters since I'm slowly finishing up chapter 19 and...it's a whopper of a chapter. Remember ALL 4 CHAPTERS THAT ARE ALREADY WRITTEN ARE DROPPING TOMORROW SO BE PREPARED!**


	15. The Panic

Lance's heart was pounding as he raced through the halls of the ship. Skidding as he rounded a corner, his arms flailed out in a measure to balance his uneasy gait. Tipping forward, he pressed the flat of his palm against the ground, before pushing off of it and straightening his body upright. He raced toward the end of the corridor, the door in front of him parting open to reveal Coran, Matt, and the collective members of Team Voltron standing around with uneasy looks upon their faces.

The only two missing however were Shiro and Lotor.

Allura's brows were pushed together as she turned to Coran, her shoulders stiffening as she asked. "Where could they have gone?"

Coran who was in charge of ensuring the whereabouts of the Lions and their respective Paladins simply gave Allura a frustrated shake of his head. "I'm uncertain Princess. Neither Shiro nor his Lion are here, not to mention that I can't track them from the ship. So wherever he and Lotor have gone there's some sort of device that obscures me from finding out their location."

Where could Shiro have even taken Lotor…

Suddenly the information fizzled inside of Lance's mind like a lightbulb coming to life. "Shiro took Lotor to the Kral Zera."

Looking uncertain of his recent exclamation, Allura turned toward him. "Why would he have done that?"

Lance shook his head, frustration causing his lips to purse. "Shiro's been acting weird ever since he was rescued." He held up a single hand, curling back his index finger as he spoke. His other fingers followed as he mentioned evidence to back up his suspicions. "He's been getting frequent headaches. His behavior has been weird. Do I need to go on?"

"Shiro could just be stressed. He's been through a lot more than anyone here." Matt spoke up, everyone besides Lance nodding their head in agreement.

Pointing a single finger in Matt's direction, Lance's mouth turned down into a tired grimace. "You've known Shiro the longest out of all of us here. You can't tell me that a lot of his actions these past few months haven't been weird to you either."

A frown worked itself across Matt's face as if he was second-guessing his own opinions concerning Shiro. "Sure, he's been different, but—"

Shaking his head, Lance cut him off as he turned to face Allura. "Look I'm not asking you to believe me and I don't care if you don't either. But you need to trust me."

Closing her eyes for a few brief seconds, she drew in a sigh before relenting. "Fine, everyone head to their Lions. Coran contact the Blade of Marmora and see if you can't get the coordinates for the Kral Zera from them."

A wave of confusion washed over them all at the order that fell from Allura's mouth. Pidge was the only one to voice the question that was on everyone's mind as Coran furiously typed in the background. "Why would the Blade of Marmora know the location—"

Lance's eyes widened as he drew in a sharp breath. "Because Keith's on the planet isn't it?" Allura avoiding his gaze was all the confirmation he needed from her.

Spinning on his heels he rushed toward the door, he bit down on his lower lip as a bundle of nervousness coursed through him. "We need to get there as fast as we can."

"Why?"

Lance stopped, slowly turning to address Allura behind him. "Because if we don't...it's going to be a bloodbath."

* * *

Groaning as he ground his teeth in frustration, Shiro weaved and dodged through a hail of enemy fire that seemed to grow with each passing second. A million thoughts that were all self-berating at his earlier plan of coming to the Kral Zera without backup or reinforcements of any kind were brewing in the interior of his mind. A particularly strong blast to the rear of his Lion had him tumbling through the air as the interior of the cockpit became awash in flashing red lights and warning sounds. Through gritted teeth, he groaned out, "I can't handle them by myself!"

Static crackled in his headset, before a warm, familiar voice triumphantly exclaimed, "It looks like you could use some help!"

Lifting his head, Shiro could see the Red Lion leading the rest of the Lions into the midst of battle. He could nearly picture Lance's cocky grin within the interior of his own respective cockpit. Invigorated by the arrival of his teammates and friends, Shiro was filled with a renewed sense of energy as the Lions weaved and danced through the countless enemy ships that surrounded the planet. Lighting up the sky in a sea of color and debris as the Lions wove through it all, releasing destruction from their maws. Nuts, bolts and countless debris from the ships floated aimlessly through space as ash from charred bodies rained down upon the atmosphere.

Lance was reclined in the seat of the Red Lion as he observed on his screen, Lotor climbed up the grandiose steps wordlessly. His fellow Paladins were equally as silent as they all observed Lotor; the aftermath of their fortuitous battle floating around them or mere ashes that now rested upon the planet. Compelled as he watched Lotor climb the steps with a torch grasped firmly in his hand, he could feel the universe minutely shifting for this one singular moment in history as he was watched intently. Lotor tipped the torch into the ceremonial pyre and watched as the purple flame grew and lit the pillar.

The archivist raised his arms in the air as he turned to address the crowd of Galra, who mere moments before had been vying for the throne themselves. "The flame is lit. Bow to your emperor."

One by one, the Galra fell to their knees as Lotor turned to take in his subjects who now owed their lives and very allegiances to him. A breeze ruffled his hair as the sun slowly rose above the horizon illuminating his silhouette in a thin gaze of golden, yellow light.

Lance drew in a deep breath as he watched Lotor turn his head...this time to gaze up at the Red Lion. His skin bloomed with a warm fire as he felt Lotor was gazing through Red and directly at him instead.

From this day forward, he knew everything was going to be different.

* * *

Who knew that being crowned emperor meant that everyone would be wrapped up in diplomatic meeting after meeting?

For the past week, Lotor, Allura, and Coran had been embroiled in meetings with Galra leaders, the Blade of Marmora, and coalition members alike as they hammered out details and important things that flew over Lance's head at the mere mention of them. For most, they needed to wrap their head around the fact that Lotor was the new emperor. For many, it was more or less a test to see how the new emperor was different from Zarkon in any way...or if he was similar. Everyone else was mostly left to their own devices dealing with different tasks for the Coalition in any way they could. Lance, however, often attended some of the meetings. Despite his lack of understanding for most of the topics that were discussed, some of them truly intrigued him...even if he often went to the meetings with an ulterior motive in mind.

One such day, he walked into the meeting room. The doors sliding apart in front of his face, to reveal Lotor grossly enraptured in a talk he was having with some alien dignitary. Lotor excused himself abruptly in the middle of the conversation as he lifted his right wrist to pull off a hair tie—when did Lotor even carry around hair ties?—he raised his hands as he pulled back his hair and worked it into a messy ponytail. A few wisps of hair broke free from the ponytail and hung loosely around his head.

Lance's mouth went dry at the new look as Lotor turned and spotted Lance. He lifted his arm, his mouth open to call out a greeting to him, but instead watched in amusement as Lance squeaked, spun on his heels and sped walked out of the room.

A desire to avoid Lotor lead Lance to spending most of his time with Pidge and Matt and it was where he found himself now, seated on the floor of the science room with a controller in his hand as he tested out a game Pidge had coded using the ship's interface. It was an RPG, multiplayer battle game that she had roped Lance and Matt into testing out.

Pidge mashed her thumbs against the buttons of her controller as Matt cast a spell against the monster blocking their path. Lance's character in the game disappeared for a few seconds, before reappearing behind the monster and threw a bunch of magic-infused knives into its back. "So, Lance," Pidge probed as thick golden letters declared: you won on the screen, "when are you going to stop staring at Lotor like he's a tasty snack?"

Lance drew in a sharp breath, quick enough that he found himself coughing and spluttering as his character on screen took a nasty hit from a monster that appeared out of a vase. Turning his head, he stared at Pidge, his brow arched in a look of disbelief.

To Pidge's right, Matt tapped a few buttons on his controller as his character turned around and cast a lightning spell against Pidge's character, reducing her on-screen persona to no more than a pile of ashes. "Hey!" Pidge shouted in frustration as the game released a shrill tune and golden letters that informed Pidge her character had died.

Matt looked a little sheepish as he pulled a hand off of his controller, formed a fist with it, and lightly punched his sister in the shoulder as she glared at him. "It was kind of obvious."

 _Oh….shit._

"Does the rest of the team—"

"—Know?" There was a warm chuckle that bubbled from Matt's throat. "Probably not."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Lance's brows scrunched together as he stared at Matt suspiciously. "Wait...then how did you know?"

Throwing her head back, Pidge paused the game as a long drawn out groan was pulled from her throat. She shot up from her seat, mumbling the whole while about going to go talk to her dad—who was still on Olkarion—rather than listening in on her brother regaling tales of his sexual history. Matt simply smiled as Pidge left the room. "Lance, I've been in space for a really long time. For such a long time that as a 22-year-old, you don't spend years in space alongside a bunch of alien races that don't adhere to a gender binary and call yourself straight for that long."

Uncertain of what to say about what Matt had just told him, he nodded as both of them fell silent. Matt broke the silence however by saying, "So...Lotor, huh? Not a bad choice."

"Matt, please shut up," Lance grumbled as his cheeks turned scarlet, his face heating up from embarrassment as he let his face fall into upturned hands.

Matt threw his head back as he let out a laugh that had him pressing his arms to his sides. There were tears spilling from his eyes as he hiccuped out advice to Lance. "If you need condoms, lube, whatever I can tell you some great shops in the space mall to go and get some."

"Oh my god, Matt." Lance sounded incredibly scandalized.

Despite Lance's embarrassment, Matt continued on anyway as he leaned close to Lance and rested a hand on his shoulder. His face was devoid of laughter, though there was a half-smirk still lingering on his face. "Alright time to be serious." He pursed his lips together as if he was looking for the best way to formulate his thoughts into words. "Galra anatomy is...different." Lance's face was lit up in a silent question. "Take it from someone who's seen their fair share of Galra dick, but they...glow...like neon light stick in the dark type of glow. They have ridges too and are about as thick as one of Shiro's arms."

Pressing his hands together, Lance held them in front of his face as he mentally freaked out as the imagery of Lotor pulling down his pants and a dick that was as thick as Shiro's arm and glowed neon purple swirled in his mind.

"What are the two of you dweebs talking about?" Pidge cocked a brow as she walked back into the room and observed Lance looking like he'd just been mentally scarred for the rest of his life and Matt with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Nothing that concerns you," Matt replied back, struggling to control the laughter in him that threatened to come out.

Pidge rolled her eyes as she walked over, resumed the game, resurrected her character with an item from her inventory and slashed Matt's character in two with a giant, flaming sword.

"Hey!"

"Payback's a bitch." She sang out as Matt punched her in the shoulder yet again. The two of them burst out laughing as Lance smiled warmly, pushing any and all thoughts of Lotor's dick out of his mind...for now.

* * *

A couple hours later and Lance was standing in front of the training room. He was decked out in his undersuit, and the lower portion of his armor, save for the belt. His bayard was gripped loosely in his fingers. The doors to the training room parted open as the clang of blades reached his ears. Lifting his eyes to see who else was using the training room beside him, he was surprised to see Lotor dancing across the training room floor as he spun and avoided the blade of the training robot that advanced in on him. Lance drank in the sight of Lotor donning a black sleeveless undersuit that conformed to his body like a second skin, yet exposed the litany of faint white scars that littered his arms. His hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail that swayed as Lotor barrel rolled over a particularly nasty sword swing that would have cleaved him in two. His skin was shining with sweat as he panted heavily to repeal that attacks that were being aimed at his body.

Lance's mouth may have been slightly watering as watched Lotor spin around, the broadsword in his hand twirling as he slashed through the robot causing it to disappear into a flurry of flashing blue light and static. His eyes studied the sword; taking in the long length of it, the deep blue of the center of the sword's guard that reminded him of the same coloration of the accent of Lotor's armor; the glowing violet lights that made up the sword's quillons and pommel. His lips parted in a surprised gasp that had Lotor's head snapping in his direction. "Lance?"

"Is that an Altean Broadsword?" Lance's eyes twinkled with curiosity as he rushed into the training room to get a better look at Lotor's sword.

Lotor's brows were raised as he seemed surprised that Lance could even recognize the weapon. "Yes. I had a blacksmith with knowledge of Altean weaponry make this for me...before Zarkon killed him of course. But how do you have knowledge of—"

Before Lotor could even complete his question, the Bayard in Lance's hand was glowing and transformed into his own broadsword. Lotor's mouth twitched into an intrigued smile as his eyes narrowed, eyes darkening with an emotion that Lance knew very well. His cheeks warmed as raised his empty fist and coughed into it nervously. "So...training, huh?"

"Yes," Lotor nodded as he twirled the blade effortlessly in his hand, "I was feeling rather rusty aboard the ship. So, I decided that a good training session would allow me to put my skills to use." A smirk effortlessly stretched across his features as a brow twitched upward. "Though I should be inviting you to join me."

If it was possible Lance's cheeks heated up even more. "What?" He croaked out, his voice cracking as the word fell out. He coughed into his fist again and repeated the word. "What?"

His eyes flickered to Lance's Bayard. "The way you held your sword it was very...amateurish."

Eyes narrowing at the comment, Lance looked more than peeved at Lotor's words as he transformed the Bayard in his hand into a broadsword. He knew it was a playful barb that Lotor was lobbing his way by the elvish smile that graced Lotor's lips anyway, but he playfully decided to toss it back into Lotor's court. "I've used it plenty of times. I'm not amateurish in the slightest. In fact, I think I'd be good enough to take you on." The cockiness of Lance's words had Lotor smiling as he cocked his head to the side, crooked a single finger in his direction and made a "come hither" motion that had Lance feeling more than one complex emotion inside of him. Lance let out a guttural yell as he wrapped both hands around the pommel of the sword. Pointing it lowly at the ground, he rushed toward Lotor and when he was about at least a foot away from him, he swung the sword in an upward arch that Lotor easily blocked with the flat end of his own sword. That perfect little smirk seemed to grow on Lotor's face, dropping lowly Lance stuck his right leg out and swept it in an arc in an attempt to sweep Lotor off of his feet.

Lotor saw it coming however and simply vaulted over Lance's back. Lance shot up from the ground, his back still to Lotor when he stiffened as he found Lotor's chest a few inches from his back. The edge of Lotor's sword hovering a fraction of an inch away from his neck. Glancing out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Lotor's face hovering next to his own as Lotor whispered into his ear, causing a shiver to travel up his back as the emperor's smooth voice penetrated his ear. "I think this would be the part where I tell you that I've won... _Paladin_." Lance's mouth felt dry as the tips of his ears went pink. Pulling a hand off the pommel of his sword, he tucked in his arm and elbowed Lotor in the stomach.

He didn't see that coming, especially not Lance's next move. Lance swung his blade, aiming for the middle of Lotor's blade. The force of the attack causing the blade to fly from his hand and clatter somewhere behind Lotor. Lance cocked his head to the side, his own cocky smirk playing on his lips. "What was that about you winning?"

Rolling his shoulders as he cracked his neck from side to side, there was a devilish smile on Lotor's face that had Lance's heart pounding inside of his chest. "Who's to say that not having a weapon means the fight is over?"

Spinning around on the back of his heels, Lance barely had time to blink as Lotor's hand shot out to grip his wrist, bending the appendage back painfully enough that it had Lance wincing as his own sword clattered to the ground. Lotor's other hand shot up, his fingers curled toward his palm in an open fist as he delivered an open-handed punch to Lance's sternum. Releasing his grip on Lance's wrist, he watched the Paladin stumble back as he drew in a series of quick and painful breathes, his right hand pressed flatly against the center of his chest as the pain to his sternum slowly dissipated. The creases of his face were wrinkled from anger.

He watched as Lotor bounced on the balls of his feet as he raised his fists so that they were parallel with his chin. Well, if he wanted to make this a fight...Lance mimicked the stance, though his feet were spread the width of his shoulders and his feet firmly planted to the ground. He quickly darted forward, Lotor dancing away from him like this was a game of cat versus mice. His arms still held up near his chin, Lotor quickly moved forward throwing a right jab that Lance danced out of the way of, but was quickly followed by a left punch that he didn't seem and unfortunately connected with Lance's jaw. Stumbling backward, he had just enough time to catch the brunt of a high knee kick that Lotor aimed at his body with the flat of his palm. Lashing out with a right leg kick that connected with Lotor's side, Lance drew in a sharp breath as Lotor aimed a sharp punch to the left side of his ribs. Dancing out the way, Lotor aimed a quick series of kicks to Lance's leg that had the muscles there quivering. Wanting to win this fight to soothe his ego, Lance jumped in the air, aiming a flying kick at Lotor's stomach that had the emperor stumbling backward.

A spluttering cough fell from Lotor's lips as he pressed a hand to his abdomen, there was a playful smirk on his lips. "You know, you look quite stunning when you work out."

"Wha—" Before Lance could even finish the word, he was falling backward quicker than he could process. He blinked finding Lotor's thighs pressed to either side of his head as he lay flat against the floor. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he got an eyeful of Lotor's bulge in his face. The blood in Lance's face caused his skin to redden and heat up.

"I think I can definitely say that I've won on this occasion." Lotor laughed, before glancing down to see Lance's reddened face. "Are you upset?"

"I'm not." The words rushed past Lance's lips. "Can you just get off me?"

Lotor rose to his feet, offering a hand to Lance to pull the Paladin up. Waving it away, Lance pushed himself up to his own feet as Lance's brows were pushed together in worry. "Have I offended you?"

"No," Lance grumbled turning his back to Lotor so that he wouldn't see the _cause_ of his current frustration. "I'm just a little worn out is all. I'm going to go take a shower." Quickly sweeping up his weapon, Lance rushed out of the room, leaving a confused Lotor behind in his wake.

* * *

He made sure to avoid Lotor as much as he humanly could. Though he couldn't avoid him forever…

Lance saw him the day they all returned to Olkarion. The Olkari had completed work on a small ship that would be able to take Sam Holt back to Earth safely. They'd all recorded messages for their families—after all, they'd just flown off into space once Shiro crash landed and they had found Blue. There wasn't much time for any of them to say goodbye to their families. Hunk was handing over their recordings to Sam as he pointed to the one on the farthest right. "My message is for my mom only since I start getting teary-eyed toward the end." Hunk bumped his shoulder against Lance's as he folded his hands together and made kissy faces into the air. "Oh, and you don't want to see Lance's either since it's probably just a love message to Jenny Shaybottom." Hunk paused, his eyes narrowing and his mouth flattening out into a thin line of confusion. "Or the other Jenny. What was her name?"

"Hunk." There was some bite in Lance's tone, causing everyone's gaze to snap toward him. "I wasn't ever serious about Jenny. She was a crush I had for a year. Just drop it already."

Looking taken aback by Lance's sharp tone, Hunk glowered. "I was just joking. You've never been this upset over my Jenny jokes before. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Lance snapped back bitterly. He threw his arms into the air above his head, he pulled them back down to cross them protectively in front of his chest. He sniffled softly, looking close to crying. "It's just...once I started thinking about the Earth. I thought about everyone back there. All the people we didn't get a chance to say goodbye to; all the people who worried about us for the past year and a half as they probably wondered where we were. It just made me miss everything about the Earth—everyone—it made me miss my mom, my brother Luis, my sister Veronica, and my abuelita." Lance sighed as he brought a sleeve up to rub at his eyes. "I just...I hate all of this." Lance swept his arm out in a sweeping arch. "I hate not being home with my family. I hate this stupid war."

"Lance." Hunk whispered, not even giving his friend a chance to respond before he pulled his friend into a hug. In a corner of the room, Lotor who'd been observing the entire thing narrowed his eyes.

* * *

A few weeks passed by and the Paladins had been invited to the Central Command Ship after a transitionary period where Lotor had transferred his meager belongings with him to the heart of the Galra Empire as he began to take on more work and diplomatic requirements related to his new position. He'd invited all of them aboard the ship, mostly to take a tour of it and to be transparent with the Paladins even in the heart of the empire just like he was aboard the castleship. He'd given them all a tour of the ship, that was impressively at least four times the size of the castle. After the tour was done, he personally called Lance aside to follow him as he left the other Paladins to their own devices.

"Where are we going?" Lance finally spoke up after walking silently beside Lotor for at least ten minutes.

"You'll see." Was the only cryptic response Lotor would offer him as they stopped in front of a massive door. Lotor pressed his hand against a scanner on the side of it.

He swore if Lotor was planning on murdering him.

The doors slid apart causing Lance's eyes to widen as he wordlessly took in what he was seeing. Taking a step forward, Lance's shoes sunk into the soft pillowy sand beneath him as he watched waves lazily lap at the edges of a shoreline. The sun above him soaked into his skin with a warmth that felt hyperrealistic.

He knew this place like the back of his hand. It was a beach he'd gone to so many times as a child in Cuba. He whirled around on his feet to take in the pleased look on Lotor's face. "I had a bunch of my technicians recreate this _beach_ —" Lotor paused at the unfamiliar Earth terminology. "—for you from what I remembered aboard—" Clamping his lips shut, Lotor didn't bother completing the sentence when he saw the way Lance's face scrunched up at the memory. "—from what I could remember from what I experienced."

Lance turned his head, taking in the swaying palm trees, the crystal, clear, blue of the sea. The way when he tipped his head back and drew in a lungful of air, he could smell the salt of the sea...just as if he was back on Earth. He glanced at Lotor, a single word on his lips. "Why?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Lotor simply responded the only way he knew how. "There was someone who once said that there doesn't need to be a reason for small acts of kindness." Lotor's eyes flickered over Lance's back as turned his attention back to the beach. "I'll leave you to enjoy this—" His hand swept out to motion to the beach. "—by yourself."

"You're not staying?"

Lotor was surprised by the question. Just enough that he didn't quite know what to say for a while, but he shook his head. "I have work to attend to, besides this was all made with you in mind. So I'd rather you take the time to enjoy it to yourself."

Lance nodded as he was already slipping himself out of his shoes. As Lotor turned to leave the room, he saw Lance moving closer to the sea, the waves lapping at his toes as he slowly sat down in the warm sand with a face that looked so blissfully serene. So free of the terrors and nightmares that surely haunted him with every waking moment, yet he was sitting on a holographic beach as if there was no care in the world. His toes wiggling in the sand every time the water lapped at them.

The scene caused a smile to grace Lotor's features as he turned his back to it.

* * *

The whole ship felt like a battleground of emotions. There was an undercurrent of delight as Lance passed by the lounge where Allura was excitedly explaining all that she had seen on Oriande to the others as the Castle drifted away through the Patrulian zone. He had only one person in mind that he felt he needed to talk to as he headed to the bridge. Coran was gone, either relaxing with the other Paladins or attending to some duties that needed to be done aboard the ship. Instead, Lotor was perched upon the stairs, his forehead resting against hands that were intertwined together. In here there was no excitement, only a bitter sense of disappointment.

"Lotor?"

The Galra Emperor made no movement at the sound of his own name. In fact, he made no reaction at the sound of Lance's voice. The Paladin frowned at that as he crossed the bridge and came up to Lotor's side, turning around to lean against the raised dais, he reached out and rested a hand on top of Lotor's shoulder. "Is everything okay?"

"No," Lotor grumbled, finally raising his head from his hands to glance at Lance from the corner of his eyes. "What makes me so different from Allura?" There was anger in his voice that had Lance staring at him sympathetically. "When we were on Oriande and we both faced the white lion do you know what I felt when I saw that I was the only one to appear at the entrance? With Allura hidden deep within the temple as the realization that she had passed and I had failed came into my mind? I felt anger, shame...and disgust." The anger had morphed into sorrow, Lotor's eyes shined heavily with the despondent emotions swirling inside of him. "My one chance to learn more about Altea, its people, its culture and its secrets." He paused to pull his hands apart and stare at his palms, before curling his fingers into fists that trembled. "My one chance and I failed! All because I had _this blood_ tainting me."

Lance's eyes widened in alarm at hearing Lotor talk that way about himself. He'd known Lotor to take pride in both halves of his heritage, but to hear him, now, lament the Galra side of him was something that had him reaching out and gently laying a hand over Lotor's left fist. "Hey," he whispered as he shifted away from the wall until he was standing in front of Lotor. He dropped to a crouch until he was in Lotor's view. "Don't talk like that. Just because you're half Galra doesn't mean that affected your chance at Oriande. That doesn't mean it tainted it either. What? Do you think there are some long dead Alteans who are now ghosts who sit around, sip tea, and decide who's worthy to learn all the secrets of Oriande? I'd hate to be them, could you imagine nothing to do for centuries except wait for people to show up?" Lance playfully wrinkled his nose at the imagery as the joke earned a rumbling chuckle from Lotor. The Galra's eyes softened a little at the joke. "Oriande isn't gone. It's not like you can't go back someday, it's not like you're locked out of it. And from what I know about Altea from what Allura mentions about it, it just seems like you think differently from them and that isn't a bad thing. You pursue knowledge by never yielding to it. You never give up. But Allura? She gains knowledge because she's willing to lay down her life for it. You're used to fighting for it whereas Allura is used to sacrificing herself for it, she's willing to bend to its whims in order to gain what she wants. What you have isn't a disadvantage it's an advantage and you just have to learn how to adapt it to different situations."

There was a bitter laugh that rumbled from the hollow of Lotor's throat. "I've been so used to the Galra way that I can never unlearn it." His eyes narrowed. "How does that make me any different from my father?"

Lance shook his head, his hand on Lotor's fist tightened a little until he was squeezing the flesh. He stared directly into Lotor's eyes. "Everyone has different ways of obtaining knowledge. There's no right or wrong way. No one singular way that triumphs over them all. Just because you're half Galra doesn't mean that makes you any less of an Altean compared to Allura or Coran." Lance rolled the wrist of his other hand in a vague motioning gesture. "I'm sure there's someone in the universe who's half worm and they're still as worthy as anyone at what they do." That earned another chuckle from Lotor, a smile crept across Lance's own face. "Don't ever think that what makes you different from everyone else can also be a weakness. It's not. And that doesn't ever mean you're cut off from the other half of your heritage."

"Thank you—" Lotor whispered, his eyes shining as they settled on Lance's own. There were warning signs that screamed in the back of Lance's mind for him to pull away as Lotor relaxed his hand, slid it out from underneath Lance's own as the Paladins hand fell down to rest on Lotor's knee. Lance's gaze darted to watch Lotor gingerly place his hand on top of his own, the cool material of his glove against his bare skin felt like a thousand volts of electricity dancing up his spine as he turned his gaze back to Lotor's face. "—Lance." The way Lotor said Lance's name; soft, with a bit of desire beneath it had Lance's tongue darting out between his lips to wet them. He could feel the heat on his face, his eyes widening in shock as he felt a pair of lips press against his own. Sighing into the kiss, Lance's eyes slipped shut as Lotor's other hand came up to cup his cheek.

Plush lips were pressed against his own as Lance made the stunning discovery that Lotor was a few degrees hotter than the average human being. Tilting his head to the side, Lance let out a soft gasp as Lotor's tongue darted out and slipped in between the pillowy flesh of his lips to taste the warm cavern of his mouth. His own taste buds bloomed with the aftertaste of citrus and something sweeter that reminded him of cinnamon as he came undone by Lotor's kiss. He felt like a ball of clay being prodded and molded beneath Lotor's careful fingers. It wasn't until his own tongue brushed against the tip of Lotor's own that he pulled away with a pair of swollen, shining lips and the realization of what had just happened.

He blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if he'd just been interrogated by his mother for something that he hadn't done. "That—" he began, only to trail off as he could find no words that would come to his tongue.

"—Was delightful?" Lotor finished for him, a cocky smirk on the edge of his lips, his brow raised as he slid his hand down Lance's cheek to run a single thumb over his kiss-swollen lips.

"No," Lance shook his head yet again, his voice hoarse as if he hadn't spoken in millennia. Pulling away from Lotor's touch it was enough to see the brief flash of hurt and confusion that burned in Lotor's eyes and had Lance quickly backtracking to explain himself. "The kiss...it was nice...but I—"

"But?"

"Do you even like me?" Lance's cheek pinkened as the middle schoolish tone of his question burned within his ears. He felt embarrassed as if he was back the courtyard of his middle school, surrounded by a bunch of friends as he asked a crush whose name had been lost to the sea of time if she had liked him in a way only middle schoolers were capable of processing their own emotions.

Seemingly taken aback by Lance's question, Lotor dipped his head in acknowledgment. "I will admit...I do find you...intriguing."

Inside his body, Lance felt his heart skip a beat at Lotor's words even as his brain rushed to convince him that Lotor's words could have a whole slew of meanings behind it. Dipping his own head, until he avoided Lotor's gaze, he breathed out. "I need some time to think. Some time to process...everything that just happened...between us." Finally lifting his head, Lance motioned between himself and Lotor.

The smirk on Lotor's face only widened at that as he cocked his head to the side, his eyes shining as he reached out to stroke Lance's cheek. "I understand." He whispered as if he was willing to wait a thousand years until Lance was comfortable with the situation.

Some part of Lance realized bubbled inside of himself as he realized that Lotor very well would have.


	16. The Love in Your Eyes

He wasn't outright avoiding Lotor as he stared up at his ceiling, his right arm tucked underneath his head as a makeshift pillow. His lips still burned as if Lotor had just kissed them, despite the kiss having happened nearly a week ago. Groaning in frustration as he flopped onto his side, he didn't know how to process how he felt.

On one hand, he really _really_ liked Lotor. He felt a connection with him that he didn't feel with the other Paladins. Like the two of them understood each other even if he didn't agree with most of the ways Lotor chose to approach his problems. But he also was wary of Lotor, he knew that Lotor could be equally as cruel as he could be kind and there were no amount of excuses that could justify his cruel behavior. Sighing, he brought his own fingers up to his lips as he slowly traced his bottom lip with the tip of his middle finger, he shivered as he felt Lotor's phantom touch tracing across the skin. Turning so that his face was smooshed into his pillow, a frustrated groan tore itself from his throat as he contemplated his situation. He didn't even know if he liked guys! He'd had a few identity crises in space, especially the long nights in which Lotor would stay with him in his cell, but that didn't help him come to a determination if he liked guys sexually, romantically, or both.

There wasn't any determination needed for him to decide that he was sexually attracted to Lotor. He'd been replaying the memory of Lotor with his knees splayed on either side of him, giving Lance an eyeful of his junk more than he would like to admit. It wasn't a realization that he was 100% comfortable with yet, but it was something that he was slowly working toward. But, he couldn't help but worry what it was that Lotor wanted from Lance. Was he looking for a relationship? Frowning at the prospect of being no more than one-half of a friends with benefits type relationship.

The more he dwelled on it, the more frustrated he became as he couldn't quite wrap his head around a concrete little box that would help him understand his own feelings. Feeling frustrated and a little peckish as he hadn't really eaten dinner, Lance pushed himself off of his bed and walked out of his room with the intention of heading to the kitchen. He was a foot away from it when he heard someone calling out to him.

"Lance!

Turning his head toward the sound, Lance was a little more than surprised to see Shiro awake at this odd hour of the day. The lights were dim on the ship and despite the lack of a clock in Lance's room, he knew that it was in the early hours of the morning when the rest of his teammates should have been held up in their rooms sleeping off the weariness of the day. "Shiro?" Lance's eyes flickered up and down the hall, nervously, he couldn't quite give a reason for his behavior. His skin crawling as the back of his neck tingled from goosebumps, his entire body stiffened as he shifted his gaze back to Shiro. "What are you doing up?" The wariness in Lance's tone had Shiro slightly frowning as he gave Lance a glance that traveled from head to toe.  
His own eyes crinkled around the corner of them. "I should ask you the same thing."

Lance's mouth slightly opened, that worming suspicion that crawled in his stomach that something was slightly off with Shiro had him clamping it shut. "I just couldn't sleep." He answered after quite a few seconds had passed. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the entire truth either.

Nodding at that, Shiro replied, "I guess that makes the both of us then. Want to get some snacks from the kitchen?"

Snacks from the kitchen consisted of some sugary treats Hunk had made earlier in the day. Shiro walked over to the kitchen table with two steaming mugs grasped in each hand, placing one down before Lance, the Paladin gave him a grateful nod as he reached out for the mug, blew on the steaming liquid to cool it down, and took a small sip. Lance's brows shot up as the familiar taste of a similar drink danced upon the surface of his tongue.

"Is this hot chocolate?"

Shiro nodded, taking his own sip from his own mug, a small smile ghosting across his lips. "Just don't ask me how I made this. You wouldn't want to know." He said with a small chuckle that seemed to hover on his face for a few seconds before melting away to be replaced by a more serious look. "Lance."

Cocking a brow in his direction, Lance responded, "yea?"

"I'm sorry for how I've been acting these past few months. You know snapping at you and just well...not really acting as a leader to you...or even a friend."

Shoulder's slumping, guilt started to creep into Lance as he pursed his lips, setting his own mug down on the table. "Shiro, it's fine. You've been under a lot of—"

Shaking his head sharply, cutting Lance off, Shiro frowned at Lance's words. "It's not _fine_ , Lance. I behaved in a way that you deserve an apology for. I was in the wrong, so I'm admitting to it. How I've been behaving is wrong and you don't deserve to take the brunt of it or even have how you're feeling dismissed."

Staring into the contents of his mug, Lance looked slightly perturbed at Shiro's acknowledgment. "What's suddenly brought all of this on?"

Shrugging his shoulders, there was a look of contemplation that swept over Shiro's face. "I just felt the need to apologize for my shitty behavior. I know everyone on the ship looks up to me, but that doesn't mean that everything I do or say shouldn't be questioned every now and then." Nodding, Lance felt the tension in his shoulders slightly ebbing out of him as Shiro took a sip from his still steaming mug. Pulling the mug away from his lips, he voiced out a question that had seemed to be plaguing his mind for quite some time. "Now, what's the real reason behind you being up so late at night? Hunk made a passing mention about you not sleeping as much lately. Is something bothering you, Lance?"

"I—" Lance began, his tongue darting out from between his lips to wet them. What should he say? He didn't exactly want to tell Shiro about his night terrors or the fact that he didn't feel comfortable sleeping in his own skin. He wasn't exactly comfortable talking about what was going on, not with himself, not with Lotor, and definitely not with Shiro. Instead, he forced himself to talk about what was truly bogging down his mind. "—have a friend. They're struggling to figure out some stuff right now."

"Oh?" Shiro said, cocking one of his eyebrows up as he gave off some serious dad vibes. "Like what?"

"Their sexuality. They don't know whether they like guys or girls or….they just don't know who they are right now. And now they're even more confused because they just got kissed by a guy recently."

Shiro hummed in acknowledgment, idly tapping his thumb against the edge of his mug. "I would tell that friend that sexuality is a roller coaster; they shouldn't worry too much about their own sexuality. If they feel something fits them then they'll know, if they don't there shouldn't be any rush to try and figure out who they are."

For some reasons those words gave Lance more solace than he would have found hold up in his own room with his thoughts for company. With that new solace, Lance found himself shooting up from his seat, his brain running at a thousand miles per hour. It startled Shiro who was staring at Lance as if he'd just witness a space ghost appear in the kitchen and flip him off. "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere important." Lance lightly tossed out without glancing back over his shoulder at Shiro. "I'll see you later though, dad, thanks for the hot cocoa."

Brows scrunching up together, there was a sheepish grin that tugged at the edge of Shiro's lips as he lifted his mug up to them. "Did he just call me dad?"

Lance raced through the castle halls until reaching the tower that held Red. Climbing up to the cockpit, he briefly thought about sending out a message to announce his arrival beforehand but decided it should be a surprise. Powering up Red, he slipped out of the castle and enjoyed the nearly hour-long journey to Galra central commandship, without a Teludav the journey to the commandship was much longer than Lance was used to, but it gave him a good amount of time to formulate what he planned on saying as well as a chance to just idly admire the planets and space around him. It had always been his dream to fly into space, admire the stars and planets around him that he had only gotten to see on screens during the dozens of courses he had to take at the Garrison.

There was some inkling of him that had known, he wasn't the best cadet at the Garrison if he was lucky he'd be stationed at some low-level job on Earth, but this—getting to be out in space in an alien ship—was something he'd never even have dreamed of.

Finally, the commandship and the fleet of ships that always surrounded it came into view. Guiding his Lion into the hull of the ship, he got out of it and navigated his way through the ship with some ease after having made the trip here with the others multiple times at this point. It didn't take him long to find Lotor in his personal study, his hair pulled back into a high ponytail as he flicked through some data and schematics on the datapad that rested on his desk.

At the sound of the door opening and someone stepping into the study, Lotor lifted his head, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise at the sight of Lance. "Lance? It's a little late to be here, isn't it?" Lotor's eyes shifted to the door behind Lance. "Where are the other Paladins?" His gaze shifted to the pajamas that Lance was wearing, the corner of his lips quirking up in amusement. "I'm going to take it that you came here by yourself. Is this for a more duty based reason—" He paused, cocking his head to the side as his eyes narrowed, "—or more personal?" The word rumbled off his tongue with a soft purr.

"It's for a more personal reason," Lance responded, his cheeks pinkening as he watched Lotor nod, tap at his datapad and rise from his seat.

"I still have work to do, but if you wouldn't mind, Lance, I'd like for you to accompany me somewhere."

Intrigued by the sudden proposition, Lance accepted and followed Lotor out of the study and back to the hull of the commandship, the both of them getting into Lotor's Sincline ship and taking off into the cavernous expanse of space. "Where are we going?" Lance asked after some time had passed as Lotor kept his eyes trained on the navigational map before him. Lotor merely turned his head in Lance's direction, a smile on his lips and shards of light in his eyes. "It's a surprise. You'll see."

They traveled for quite some distance, to a distant corner of the quadrant they were in. In the distance, Lance could see a rather large planet that was the color of red velvet. Splotches of purple vegetation littered the planet as Lotor guided the ship to it and landed them down on the planet's surface. Tall purple trees with snaking, luminescent vines wrapped around their trunks surrounded him, along with other purple foliage.

"What is this?" Lance whispered as he stepped out of the ship, breathing in a lungful of fresh oxygen laced air. The Galra Emperor merely smiled at the question as he pulled up his datapad and glanced at the trees. The trees were easily as tall a skyscraper back on Earth, walking up to one of the thick trees, Lotor rapped his knuckles against it as he turned to face Lance. "These trees take in carbon dioxide and convert it into oxygen. The very stuff you and I are breathing in right now." Pointing at the luminescent vines that were wrapped around the trunks of the tree, Lotor continued on. "The vines take in the carbon dioxide and feed it into the tree with the tree leaves pumping out the oxygen into the atmosphere around us."

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Lance chuckled at the new discovery. "Pidge would have a field day if she could see this right now." Walking up to one of the trees, Lance reached out and stroked its trunk before staring at Lotor. "Why are you doing this though? I would suspect the entirety of the Galra empire's technology would be focused on finding sufficient avenues to harvesting Quintessence without harming a planet, local ecosystems, or cultures?"

Brows shooting up at the words that fumbled from Lance's mouth, Lotor had a wide grin stretching across his face. Sweeping his arm in a wide arc, he spoke, "You're looking at the new home planet of the Galra." Hand coming up to cup at his chin, Lotor casually remarked, "Though I did have to murder the indigenous population for the planet." Face going pale, Lance looked rather taken aback by Lotor's words, only for the emperor to laugh and placate Lance by reaffirming that his words were merely a joke. "Conquering a planet isn't exactly my style. This planet was uninhabited when I found it and I've simply ordered my best scientists to terraform the planet."

"Why are you doing this?" Confusion laced its way into Lance's words. There was worry there too, of course, anyone would be worried if they were in his position. Though Lotor had good intentions in him, there was worry sometimes in the way he wished to go about achieving them. "Haven't the Galra already made homes on several planets that Emperor Zarkon conquered? What's the need for terraforming another planet just to house citizens?"

"For centuries we conquered other planets, due to my father's hatred against King Alfor for the loss of our home planet Daibazaal. We never truly put down roots when we had the means to do so and instead floated aimlessly through space without a home of our own. Instead, I plan to terraform this planet and make it a home for my people." There was hope radiating from Lotor's words. Hope and optimism wrapped up in a neat little bundle that he presented to the Paladin. "In a few weeks, there will be enough oxygen on the planet that we can begin constructing a few homes for a good number of people to test out living on the planet. Of course, there's a few things that we need to solidify such as creating a sustainable system to harvest resources such as food and water. But Lance—" He turned toward Lance. "—there's going to be life on this planet."

Chuckling, Lance pointed a finger at Lotor. "Maybe after that's done, you could maybe make a side note in your plan's to make a nice, big castle."

At Lance's words, a contemplative look swept over the emperor's face as if he was debating his next choice of words. Shaking his head, he crossed the distance that separated him from Lance and reached out taking the Paladin's hand in his own. Lifting it up until the back of Lance's knuckles were near his mouth, he leaned forward, lips brushing against the bare skin of Lance's knuckles, as he whispered words that made Lance's heart melt into a puddle of jelly. "Hopefully a castle you would be willing to call your home as well?"

With a nervous laugh, Lance pulled his hand away from Lotor's grasp. "We can talk about that when we've—" His words died in his throat, unsaid, but Lotor was able to grasp the meaning of the sentence anyway. _When we've been together a little longer; when we've gone on several dates; when we've decided to build a life together._ There were depths to those unsaid words that even Lotor could understand.

Clearing his throat, Lance stepped away from the emperor, circling his way around the trunk of a tree, he pressed his hand against the rough bark, his fingertips brushing against the vines. When he circled around the tree, coming to stand in front of Lotor again, he patted the trunk of the tree. "All of this is beautiful."

Clasping his hands behind his back, the silver-haired Galra smiled at the Paladin. "Have you had a chance to reflect on everything?"

He nodded, "I have. I've had some time to do some _reflecting_. But I do have some questions though. Are you interested in men?"

A chuckle tore itself from the confines of Lotor's throat. "Lance, I've lived for a little over 10,000 years. I would say that from the numerous _dalliances_ I've had that I'm more comfortable with who or what I chose to take into my bed."

A little more than galvanized at Lotor's choice of words, Lance filed it away into the back of his brain and vowed never in his lifetime to tell Lotor that his words on this particular occasion had riled him up in a manner that had Lance desiring to shove his head into a freezer. "Do you like me then?"

"You intrigue—"

"No," Lance replied curtly with the single word and a shake of his head. "Do you like me? Like are you interested in courting me and stuff?"

Narrowing his eyes at Lance's words, Lotor raised a single brow. "Are you interested in knowing if I'll perform Galra courtship rituals toward you?"

That had a laugh bubbling to Lance's lips, causing him to wipe tears from the corner of his eyes. "I'm new to all of this. Back on Earth, we usually just take people out on dates to show them that you're interested in them. A moment where two individuals will go out, maybe watch a movie or get dinner together to get to know each other and that sort of thing." Lance explained.

"That's one thing that makes humans seem indistinguishable between the Galra and Alteans."

"Oh?" Lance replied with interest. "What makes Galra or Altean courtships rituals so similar to the human concept of dating?"

"Well," the emperor whispered, with each passing breath he grew closer and closer to Lance, his hands outstretched as Lance settled his own hands into Lotor's empty ones. "The Altean's had a very interesting ritual of creating meaningful objects for the ones they wished to romance. Synthesizing the DNA to create new flowers or precious jewels was fairly common. For the Galra, it was more typically to explore other planets, find precious jewels or minerals and form it into jewelry to give to the one you wanted to court. My own father had once made a precious bracelet for my mother. It was made of pesnite, an incredibly tough and durable metal, with ruby red, blue, and green jewels that shined as brightly as the stars. From what I heard, my mother cherished that piece of jewelry more than her own life."

"That sounds interesting, maybe you should make one for me when we get past our first date." Lance joked, a shiver racing up his spine as Lotor brushed a thumb against his knuckles.

"Then would this be considered our first date?"

A blush rose to the surface of his cheeks. "I don't know. I guess it would be if we both consider it so."

"Then I consider this to be our first date."

That had Lance chuckling, wondering if Lotor would never have a moment where he was always this cool and suave. "All of this is new to me, and I can't help but admit that I'm a little worried since all I've ever dated before you—all I've ever been interested in before you—were women."

Shrugging his shoulders, Lotor continued to run his thumb over Lance's knuckles reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. We can take this as slow as you want—as you need to."

"That would be...appreciated," Lance whispered, a smile stretching across his face as he stared down at where his hand rested in Lotor's palm. His own giddiness and excitement at the prospect of this relationship was boundless as the silver-haired Galra lifted Lance's hand to brush his lips against his knuckles once more.

* * *

Reclined back against couches in the lounge, Lance smiled at the datapad he grasped in his hands. Lotor's smiling face peering down at him as the two talked about how the majority of their day went. "You should have seen Hunk, he really took what Dayak taught him and really applied it when he was yelling at those two officers. It was equally parts hilarious and inspiring to watch."

"I knew Dayak would be a benefit to Hunk."

Laughter spilled out into the lounge. "Are you sure you just didn't want Dayak to show us embarrassing baby pictures of you?"

Rolling his eyes, the Galra let out a scoff of incredulity. "I'll have you know there are no embarrassing childhood photos of me that exist. Dayak may have been my nanny, but she was nothing like a mother to me." The stark coldness of Lotor's words had Lance frowning as it once again settled into the fiber of his being that Lotor's childhood was not one that he wished upon any child to experience.

"How's the new home planet coming along?"

"It's been far exceeding the expectations I had set for it. Preparations on constructing homes for the citizens we're planning on settling down on the planet for a trial run have been completed. So before you know it, there'll be Galra living on the planet." Lips parting to reveal teeth and gums, a single yawn from Lotor had the two of them ending their video chat early enough for the two of them to rest.

"So, heard that you and Lotor had a d-a-t-e the other day."

Glancing up at the sudden intrusion of a new voice, Lance let out a sharp yelp as Matt's face hovered above where he was reclined. "Who told you?"

"No one," Matt huffed as if the answer was as plain as day. "But you just did. Although I did hear that you and Lotor visited an uninhabited planet that a certain someone is terraforming? And I'm wondering if said person needs any help in terraforming the planet? I mean, it's undoubtedly leagues beyond anything the Earth is currently capable of, but—"

Rolling his eyes, Lance chuckled a little at Matt's rambling speech. "I'll ask Lotor if you and Pidge can help out with the planet. He's planning to bring it up at the next coalition meeting anyway, so I can ask him then."

The door to the lounge hissed open, Allura walking in with her hair down in that loose wave that it had been when Lance first had laid eyes on her. Her own eyes darted between Matt and Lance, curiosity burning behind them. "Lance...can we talk?"

Glancing between the two of them, Matt raised his hands as if to say he wanted nothing to do with whatever clearly had transpired between them. "This looks personal, so I'm going to see myself out."

Matt left leaving the two of them behind. Breathing out a spent sigh, Lance motioned to the lounge seats around him. "We can talk."

Making her way to a seat opposite from Lance, Allura looked equal parts sheepish and guilty as if she knew she was in the wrong. "Lance, listen, I know that our relationship has been strained since—"

"You guys all decided to trade Lotor over to Zarkon the moment the deal was offered?"

There was a small wince on her face as if the incident was as fresh as a new wound. "Yes. I know that I may seem naive and idealistic and at first, I really hated Lotor. I hated everything he did and I suppose I let my awful memories of Zarkon cloud any judgment I made concerning Lotor and the Galra as a whole. But I'm slowly trying to work around that. Working with the Galra and the Blades of Marmora are still changing my opinion and forcing me to see things in a new light and not from the scarred memories that haunt me." She sighed, lowering her head slightly, she tilted it back up and Lance could see the shimmering of tears in her eyes. "I don't think I'll change overnight, but I'm slowly trying. I just don't want you to hate me."

A sympathetic pang bored its way into Lance's heart. He knew he was justified in not talking to Allura, being pissed at everyone on his team for the way they treated Lotor in the past, but he wasn't the type to hold grudges forever. Threading his fingers through his hair, Lance sighed, "I would never hate you, Allura. Yea, sometimes the stuff that you say or do bugs me, but it's never going to make me hate you. We're still friends and nothing's ever going to change that."

A lopsided grin stretched across her face as she sniffled, reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Glancing away from Lance's face, the next words she spoke nearly had him choking on the very air itself. "So...how was your trip with Lotor?"

Blinking rapidly in surprise, he turned his gaze on her. "Is it that obvious? How many people know?"

A chuckle bubbled out of Allura's throat. "Only I, Pidge, Matt, Shiro, and Coran know."

Groaning, he slapped a hand over his face. "Great, so nearly all of the team except for two." His hand slid down to cover the grin that stretched across his face.

"Don't worry about it." The grin on her face morphed into a contemplative frown. "Nothing too bad could happen anyway."

"Nothing too bad?"

Allura's shoulders rose and fell, her mouth twisting into a look of uncertainty. "The worst that could happen is Coran talks to him."

Aboard the commandship, Lotor and Coran were hunched over a bunch of data that the Galra emperor needed the older Altean's input on. Fingers tapping away at data and several schematics, the emperor only lifted his head at the sound of Coran clearing his throat.

"Is something wrong?" Lotor asked, genuinely believing that he'd done something or something had been done for Coran to glare at him as if he wished Lotor's head exploded before him.

"Lotor, I may not be much of a fighter," Coran began. "But I was King Alfor's friend and closest confidant, so as a result, he taught me a thing or two. If you hurt Lance in any manner, shape or form, I will personally lace your food with the eggs of a Thavun worm, watch it slowly eat through your major organs until you're nothing more than a husk of a corpse, shove your dead body out of an airlock and watch your corpse float through the empty, cold expanse of space."

Unbidden, a smirk worked its way across Lotor's face. "Really? I thought you would threaten to slit my throat."

Doors sliding apart, various members of the Blade of Marmora and the Paladins of Voltron entered the room. Lance's gaze darted between Lotor and Coran. "What's going on?"

Flashing a smile in Lance's direction, Lotor made his way over to him. "Coran and I were simply having a...discussion." Reaching out, Lotor grasped the Paladin's hand and attempted to lean down to kiss his knuckles, but Lance jerked his hand out of the emperor's grasp with a nervous laugh and instead patted Lotor on the back, earning him a very bewildered look. Lotor didn't have much time to question Lance about his strange behavior but instead turned to address the members of the Blade of Marmora as well as reiterate their needs to go over their plans and other important things that needed to be discussed before the upcoming coalition dinner.

A long, oval table rose from the floor that they all seated themselves around. Feeling a burning gaze upon his face, Lance turned to see Keith staring suspiciously at him and Lotor. He groaned. This was going to be a long meeting.

* * *

Once the meeting had ended, Lance had snuck away from the other members of Team Voltron and made his way to Lotor's quarters. It took quite a while, seeing as he was certain Lotor hadn't made any mentions to the other Galra about his...courting of Lance. So he had to take some rather unusual methods to make his way to Lotor's quarters.

 _Sliding into the hallway, like a crab, Lance waved his hands in front of his face as two Galra sentries shared a glance with one another. "You see nothing." Lance proclaimed in a shaky voice like those old-time horror movies that his sister, Veronica loved. "I'm definitely not heading in the direction of any personal quarters." For good measure, Lance let out a long and slow whooo sound as he slinked down the hall._

Standing in front of Lotor's door, he rapped his knuckles against the hard metal. "Come in," Lotor's silky, smooth voice slightly muffled from the thick metal of the door called out to him.

The door parted, allowing Lance to step into an antechamber with two doors attached to it that obviously lead to a bathroom and a bedroom. The antechamber was well decorated, with a good sized couch that had plush cushions strewn about it. There was a large, oval window facing the couch that gave anyone sitting there a good view of the planets that lazily passed by. Exotic vegetations and potted planets lined the room, Lotor was seated upon a smaller chair that was near the couch, turned at an angle that he had a view of the door. If his nose wasn't stuffed between the pages of a thick book.

Glancing up, Lotor seemed surprised to see Lance in his antechamber. Walking over to the couch, Lance flopped down on it, causing the cushions to bounce. "I'm sorry," he said, giving the emperor very little chance to ask him what had brought him to his antechamber.

"For what?" He asked, pulling his nose from his book, snapping it shut, and raising a brow in Lance's direction.

"For acting weird back there." Lance motioned vaguely in the direction of the door, referring to his actions earlier where he'd yank his hand from Lotor's grasp. "I just found out that everyone besides Keith and Hunk knows about us," he motioned between the two of them with a single finger. "So it feels weird with the public PDA when some of my team members don't know and I'm certain none of the Galra know about us or our relationship."

"Would you like me to tell my people? Because I'm willing to do so if that's what you wish."

"No," Lance laughed. "I think I'm more comfortable if people didn't know for a while."

"I suppose, however, the knowledge of our relationship is why Coran threatened to murder me this morning if I hurt you."

The shock of Lotor's words had Lance sitting up straight. "What!? Coran threatened to kill you!?"

"Yes," The Galra replied offhandedly as if he didn't view the threat from the older Altean with a sense of trepidation that Lance did. "It was rather endearing."

Letting out a long groan, Lance sunk back into the couch with a really dumb grin upon his face. It caused Lotor to laugh, leaning forward, he placed his book on the coffee table in front of him and stood up. Walking the short distance before he seated himself down on the couch beside Lance. Reaching out with his gloved hand, he pressed the cool leather against Lance's cheek and stroked the smooth flesh with his thumb, leaving a trail of warmth across Lance's cheek.

"You know," Lance whispered, "I preferred to tell your team members that we were in a relationship. But it's nice that they know."

"It is." The emperor whispered back as he leaned in close and captured Lance's lips in his own. The Paladin sighed into the kiss, his whole body felt like a ball of fire as Lotor's thumb continued to stroke his cheek. He never wanted to be tired of kissing Lotor as the emperor's other hand reached out to cup the outside of his thigh. Lotor's tongue traced across the flesh of his lower lip, leaving behind a trail of fire in his wake. He felt like an unbloomed flower beneath Lotor's fingers. Their tongues met, Lotor dragging his own around the cavern of Lance's mouth, leaving behind a trail of sweet, savory aftertaste. The reminded him of fruit tarts. Pulling back from the kiss, Lotor pressed his forehead against Lance's own. "I have an idea."

"About what?" Lance laughed, "did making out with me somehow give you an idea?"

"It gave me an idea about our second date."

Cocking his eyebrow in intrigue, Lance couldn't help but ask the question on his mind. "So what's this great idea of yours?"

Shaking his head, Lotor leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the tip of Lance's nose. "What's that Earthling phrase that's so incredibly common? That's for me to determine and you to find out later."

Unable to help bursting out in laughter, Lance clapped his hand against his mouth as hiccuping laughs spilled from his lips and tears sprung in the corner of his eyes at Lotor's butchering of a common Earth phrase. "Okay, okay, then I guess I'll see you for our second date?"

"You'll see me for our second date."

"Good," Lance murmured as he leaned forward and planted a kiss on Lotor's cheek. "I can't wait."

* * *

Their date was a trip to the space mall. Which Lance found quite endearing, considering he wasn't being chased around by mall cops because of his wanted status within the Galra Empire. However, the good mood of his date didn't help to quell the pout that was on his face as he walked a few paces behind the members of his team with Lotor walking beside him.

"I thought when you said we'd be having our second date," Lance whispered so that his teammates couldn't hear, "it'd just be the two of us."

"I'm sorry," Lotor chuckled. "When I simply mentioned that you would be helping me with some business your friends decided to tag along. But I'm sure we can somehow salvage this."

"I hope," Lance muttered as the group made their way to the food court where Hunk was determined to get everyone to eat at Vrepit Sal.

Sal seemed ecstatic to see Hunk once they all came in to view. "Buddy!" Sal shouted, rushing out of his shop, and navigating between the long line leading away from his shop to pull Hunk into a bear crushing hug that lifted the Yellow Paladin off of his feet. Setting Hunk back down, Sal punched the huskier Paladin in his shoulder, cheerfully. "Without you, my business would have never seen such a huge increase in profits. Tell you what, you and your friends can eat whatever you like off the menu. Free of charge of course."

Eyes shining at the prospect of a free meal, Hunk shook his head vigorously. "I couldn't do that to you, Sal, at least let us pay."

Refusing to take no for an answer, Sal was persistent. "No. No, friend of mine is going to pay for a meal so long as he eats here. Especially not on a vacation."

"Oh!" Hunk perked up, "well we're not really on a vacation of sorts." He paused, cupping his chin and drawing his shoulders in contemplation. "Well I mean it could be, but it's actually supposed to be my buddy Lance and Lotor's date—" Eyes widening as if he had just dropped the schematics for the castleship in enemy's hands, Hunk clapped a hand over his mouth.

Pidge, the closest one to him, aimed a sharp punch at Hunk's ribs. "Hunk!" Pidge hissed sharply, "it was supposed to be a secret!"

"You guys know I can't keep a secret!" Hunk bemoaned. "I'm like a ticking time bomb."

Eyes narrowing, Lance lifted his hands and placed them in front of him, his palms pointing outwards as he blinked in incredulity. "Wait, you guys knew this was a date?"

Hunk popped up near Lance, leaning in close to him with a hand held beside his mouth as he whispered in Lance's direction. "Dude. I'm so sorry, but Keith was really suspicious—and I mean really suspicious—about you and Lotor going to the mall alone together. He was going to follow you, but everyone else was going to feel bad if you saw Keith tailing you guys so we just made it a group trip."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Lance drew in a sharp breath as Keith's gaze darted between him and Lotor. "Wait, you two are dating?"

" _Pinga cojone!_ " Lance breathed out. "Keith. Can we talk? Alone."

Nodding, Keith followed Lance as he lead them off to a fountain that was some feet away from the food court. It was still in view of the others, but it was far enough that it gave them the privacy to just talk. "Dude, what's the deal?" Lance asked Keith, cutting directly to the chase.

The fountain behind them gurgled as a stream of water shot into the air. Nearby a child tossed a gold coin into the fountain as their parent tugged them along.

Sitting on the edge of the fountain, Keith threw his arms up into the air, frustration, and concern laced into his words. "Am I the only one concerned about this? I get it we're all warming up to Lotor and getting to see that he's not as bad as we once assumed, but that doesn't erase the fact that you were held captive aboard his ship nearly a year ago, he tortured you, and you're now dating him? Lance, you can't tell me that that isn't messed up."

Lance rolled his eyes, not exactly dismissing Keith's concerns, but feeling just slightly annoyed at the entire manner. Sure dating Lotor might seem like a bad idea to an outside viewer, but he knew what Lotor was capable of, he knew Lotor better than anyone here. "Technically, Keith. He had his general torture me with her psychic powers, but then she did open the airlock for me to escape—"

"Wait, what?" Keith's eyes were dark with anger, an unbridled rage that had Keith's head snapping in the direction of Lotor and if it weren't for Lance reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder Keith probably would have been tossed out of the mall and charged with harming an emperor.

"Keith," Lance sighed, a bundle of nerves throbbing in his forehead, "you don't know what really happened to me aboard that ship—"

"Because you won't tell anyone what happened to you!" Keith bit back. "You pretend you're okay; that you walked away from that situation unscathed, yet you won't tell anyone what happened aboard that ship. Not since you showed us your scars and mentioned some Galra named Zorak, you haven't told anyone what truly happened aboard that ship."

So that's what Lance did, he sat down and poured out every little detail to Keith about what truly happened aboard that ship. How Lotor tried to coax information out of him, but had failed, and instead had sent Zorak in Lotor's place to try and extract information from the Paladin. How Zorak's torture methods had been...nightmarish and excruciating, how he would taunt Lance over and over that none of his teammates were coming to save him. How he would die aboard that ship for the mere pleasure it would have gotten him. The nights were Lotor would come to his cell and give him a healing salve to get rid of the worst of his wounds; the Lotor that poured his heart and soul into Lance's laps as tears spilled from his eyes as he recanted stories of his youthhood. He told Keith every little dirty detail even as his mouth ran dry and his eyes went glassy as he was struggling to block off the memories even as they fell unbidden into his lap. He told Keith of the escape, of how one of Lotor's generals had snuck into his cell and given him his Bayard, of how he thought he was going to die when Zorak had him pinned up against the wall, but to his surprise, Lotor had come and saved him by murdering Zorak. Keith's eyes widened at that part. He told his story up until the very moment he had escaped the ship in Red and met up with the rest of the team.

When Lance was finished, Keith said nothing for quite some time, taking a moment to process all of the information.

"Please don't tell anyone else." Lance breathed out quietly. "I don't want them to know until I'm ready."

"I won't tell them." They fell back into silence again, Keith didn't quite know what to say, but Lance spoke up before he could.

"Do you know what I realized when I was aboard that ship? That I hated myself because I wasn't as strong as you or Shiro."

"Lance—" Lance cut him off with a single shake of his head.

"Just hear me out. Do you know why when we were in the garrison together, I held that stupid one-sided rivalry with you? I still did even when we were in space together. I guess I hated myself; hated that you had what I wanted so I made up that dumb one-sided rivalry to feel better about myself." Lance snorted, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he cleared the growing tightness in his throat.

There was a bittersweet smile that stretched across Keith's face as he punched Lance in his shoulder, causing the Paladin to wince and rub at the space on his shoulder where Keith's fist had made contact with his flesh. "Lance, you'll always be my rival, but if Lotor is forcing you to do anything you don't want to do I'll kill him if that's the case."

A sharp laugh ripped itself from Lance's lips, causing Keith's brows to quirk upward. "Coran already beat you to that punch, he already threatened to kill Lotor in order to defend my honor." Keith looked as shocked as Lance was when he first heard about it. "Don't worry though. Everyone has my back if Lotor ever hurts me, but Lotor and I are taking our relationship slow and on our own individual terms. We have a lot of personal and shared issues to work through, but we're happy."

"Well," Keith replied gruffly, "if Coran isn't able to murder Lotor...I'll break his legs."

Letting out a snort, Lance reached over and patted the half-Galra's shoulder, "Thanks, Keith."

Moving away from the fountain, they returned where the rest of the group where. They were all seated at a long table, piles of food resting atop of it, no doubt a courtesy from Sal. Hunk looked absolutely in heaven as he dug into a strange purple dish with gold flecks sprinkled throughout it. "How was the talk?" the Yellow Paladin asked around a mouthful of food, swallowing it down, his used his fork to motion between Lance and Keith.

"Everything's good now," Lance replied as he watched Lotor stand from the seat he was in, walk over to him and pull Lance close enough to him so that he could brush his lip's against the Paladin's cheek.

A loud groan from Shiro had everyone snapping their head in the direction of the Black Paladin. Clutching the side of his head, beads of sweat dripped down Shiro's skin, grinding his teeth together, his entire body shuddered in pain.

"Shiro, are you okay?" Allura stood up from her seat and reached out to touch Shiro's shoulder.

"I'm fine," Shiro ground out, waving his hand in a shooing motion to dismiss the concern of his friends. "I think I just need to rest a little."

Allura frowned, not seeming convinced that Shiro was the least bit okay. "...if you're sure." She finally said after much consideration.

Pidge swiveling around in her seat to stare at Lance, rolling her eyes so far that it almost seemed like she could see her brain, she made a motion of shooing Lance away from the table. "Why don't the two lovebirds get out of here, since we are technically ruining their date and all." She jabbed a finger in their direction. "I especially don't want to see you two tongue—" Matt clapped a hand over his little sister's mouth, a glare scorching enough to melt a thousand suns aimed in her direction before Matt glanced in the direction of the couple.

"I think what my little sister means to say is that you two have fun on your date."

Glaring at her brother from the corner of her eyes, Pidge mumbled loudly behind the hand covering her mouth. The sounds coming from her vaguely reminded Lance of a string of curses.

"Okay, if you guys insist," Lance mumbled, as he turned to Lotor and laced his fingers through the emperor's own.

As they walked away from the food court, Lance turned his head at the sound of Matt shouting, "Did you just lick my hand!?" His eyes darted to Shiro who was still clutching his head, teeth grinding as he winced from the severity of the migraine he was experiencing.

He didn't know why, but there was a sinking feeling in his gut that something quite was right. A feeling he couldn't shake off, but he prayed that he was wrong.

* * *

Glowing eggplant colored eyes narrowed as the figure carefully watched the scene before them. There was a smirk on Lotor's face as he leaned forward to brush his lips against the cheek of the Blue Paladin.

The door behind the figure hissed open as the lavender portal they were viewing the scene from blinked out of existence. The figure didn't turn to acknowledge the pale indigo-haired half-Galra that stepped into the room. Warily Acxa stared at the empty space where the portal had been just mere moments before. "You needed me?" She questioned, though from her tone of voice it seemed more of a statement.

"Yes," the figure hissed slowly with displeasure as they finally turned to take in Acxa's form. Acxa kept her eyes focused on the figure as the shadows of their cloak stretched and thinned to reveal the all too familiar face of Haggar. "I have a call that I need you to make for me." She hissed as the face of the Blue Paladin flashed in her mind and a cruel grin stretched across her features. 


	17. Everything Isn't as It Seems

Lips curving down into a frown, Lance tapped the interface of his datapad once more. The screen displaying a dialing symbol on the screen until it was replaced with a red flashing phone symbol that told him his call hadn't reached its intended target. Huffing, he tossed his datapad to the other corner of his bed as he flopped down onto his pillows. It'd been weeks since he last saw Lotor in person and their video and call communications had become shorter in recent days. It frustrated him to no end, he knew with their respective positions in this whole entire war that seemed every day closer and closer to coming to an end, that they wouldn't have much free time as they both would like to communicate or even see one another. But it felt like Lotor was actively trying to avoid him. Frustrated by this to no end, Lance sat up in his bed, swinging his feet over the edge and quickly tugging on a pair of socks and his shoes. He stood up from the bed, tossing on his coat over his pajamas, he left his room and made his way to the tower that held Red.

Resigning himself to going to see Lotor if the emperor wasn't communicating with him, Red's maw was wide open, ready for him to climb aboard when Lance heard a shout behind him. Turning, he was slightly surprised to see Allura, dressed in her own pajamas, her hair loose and flowing behind her back with a flustered look smeared all over her face. "What are you doing?" She chuckled nervously, her eyes flitting from Red to a very confused Lance.

Hooking his thumb over his shoulder as if the answer was blatantly obvious, he quirked an eyebrow in her direction. "I'm going to visit Lotor. Are you okay though?"

"I'm fine," she replied, despite the smile plastered on her face not quite reaching her eyes. "It's just that the rest of the team was planning on having a movie night and wanted to know if you were free to join? Hunk is even making a snack called popcorn?" Her brows furrowed at the unfamiliar pronunciation on her lips.

"I'll be gone for an hour at most," he said in an effort to reassure her, keenly aware that something else was going on that she wasn't mentioning. "But I can come back and join everyone." He turned his back to her with a finality, attempting to board Red, but Allura called out to him.

"Lance, wait!"

Turning back around to face her, confusion was painted all over his face. "Allura, seriously is everything okay?"

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as she huffed, "Quiznak." Sighing she shook her head. "Lance, look you can't go to see Lotor right now."

Brows creasing together, Lance took a single step away from Red, then another and another until he was standing in front of Allura and gripping her shoulders. "...Allura, do you know something that I don't?"

Sighing yet again, Allura pressed a hand over her face, mumbling all the meanwhile. "I am never doing him a favor ever again. Lotor doesn't want to see you right now because he believes there's a mole."

"What!" Lance jerked back away from her, his face scrunching up as if she had just slapped him in the face. "Why?"

She crooked a finger in his direction and motioned for him to come closer. He complied, she dropped her voice to barely a whisper. "Lotor received some information that there is currently a bounty out for your life."

His mouth went dry as he uttered words that he never thought he would in his lifetime. "Someone's trying to kill me?"

Allura nodded looking equally as upset as Lance that someone was out in space, hunting him down, and waiting for the right moment to strike him down all because someone had placed a monetary worth upon his life.

"How much am I worth though?" He asked, trying to make light of the entire situation. "Please tell me my life is at least worth more than Keith's."

Rolling her eyes, Allura shook her head as a smirk curved across the features of her face. "Lotor didn't want to say anything to you about it." She burgeoned on. "He didn't want to freak you out with the information and the only people who know about this whole ordeal is you, myself, and Coran."

"Yea, well I'm freaking out about this plenty enough," Lance muttered to himself. His voice rising by a few decibels as he stared at Allura. "I'll join you and the rest of the team in a bit. I have a call I need to make."

Allura nodded as she watched him leave the tower. Rushing to his room, Lance snatched up his datapad as he sat down on the edge of his bed, he tapped the screen and waited as the dialing signal appeared on his screen. It flashed for a few brusque seconds before being replaced by Lotor's face, he looked like he normally did. There were no bags underneath his eyes that belayed that anything was wrong or that there was a hit out on Lance's life. If anything, he seemed in the middle of work, Lance discerned from the floating screen containing dozens of open files next to him that Lotor waved a hand through as it fizzled out of existence. "Ah, Lance," The Galra sounded surprised to see his face, the smooth timbre of his voice accompanied by the soft, smile upon his face. "Seeing you right now is a gift to all of the dull days—"

"As much as I love listening to that sexy, timbre of your voice, don't sweet talk me right now." Lance cut him off with a laugh. "Why didn't you tell me someone is trying to kill me?"

"Allura told you?" He asked with a resounding sigh.

"Allura told me."

"I didn't want to tell you someone was trying to kill you for the exact reason that's occurring right now. You're worrying about it."

"Lotor, of course, I'm going to worry about this!" Lance huffed, "there's someone out there that's trying to murder me!"

With a weary sigh, Lotor reached up, combing a hand through his long locks. "I have this entire situation under control. There's no reason for you to worry about this and instead, I think you should put all of your focus on the upcoming Coalition dinner."

"Why?"

A flirtatious smirk replaced whatever worry had sunken itself into Lotor's bones. "Because I'm worried you'll be the most captivating creature there."

Cheeks going pink at the comment, Lance could do nothing but roll his eyes at the comment. "You giant flirt, tell me the real reason why."

"The Coalition dinner is being held on a planet I've been advocating for weeks as being a non-negotiable non-option."

At the rise of his brows, Lotor's grin fell from his face. "Lance, there are millions of cultures and planets in the universe that don't view Voltron the same way the Coalition does. For every planet that you've saved and that adores you there are plenty more out there that despise you and view Voltron's presence as not one of peace, but terror."

Lance knew that Lotor had brought this up on another occasion some time ago within a different context, but he feebly shook his head. "But we do good for the universe, at least we try to."

There was a wry smile that curved across Lotor's lips and empathy that burned in his eyes. "I know that you and Voltron try to, but in the eyes of some that perceived good for the universe to them is as evil as what you Paladins had originally thought all Galra were doing." He continued, "I know I've brought up in the past that many ships that Voltron have attacked just didn't contain Galra soldiers, but there were other cultures who actively fought on the Galra's side and had their own family's aboard our ships."

"Oh," Lance breathed out; the weight of Lotor's words finally resting upon his shoulders.

"Rest, Lance, it's getting late and I recommend you conserve your strength for this dinner."

"You make it sound like it's going to be a fight."

That had a smile curving across the emperor's lips. "You'd be surprised, politics can prove to be a far more difficult aspect of war than battles themselves."

They both bid each other goodbye. As Lance reclined back on his bed, he wondered how much of Lotor's own personal experiences made his words ring true. Pushing himself off of his bed and heading out to the lounge where he knew everyone else would be, he couldn't keep himself from worrying about the up and coming dinner.

For the first time in his life, Lance wasn't looking forward to a social event.

* * *

A few days had passed and before Lance or even the rest of his teammates knew it the occasion for the dinner had fallen upon them like flurries of snow, despite the earlier weather forecast advocating for a cloudy day with a few occasional thunderstorms. Sighing through his nose, Lance glanced out of the cockpit and at the sight of a burgeoning crowd that was blooming below.

"Are you guys ready to go?" Shiro's voice crackled through the space of his cockpit as it undoubtedly was doing for the others.

"We might as well get this over with," Pidge grumbled as Lance stood up from his seat to exit Red.

Everyone huddled down in the street below, waiting for Lotor who showed up a few seconds later with the Blade of Marmora who were accompanied by Keith. The emperor and Lance shared a look, before Lotor lifted a fist to clear his throat, his eyes sweeping over everyone there. "Shall we get a move on?"

Moving together as a group, none of them had time to admire the planet that they had neither seen nor heard of. Solleurus was a beautiful planet, with lush jungles that gave way to a thriving city. Three moons floated overhead the planet alongside the setting sun. They all walked into a crowded city, the road clear of people, whereas the sidewalks were sectioned off by thick white ropes that kept dozens of aliens off of the street. The large group walked nervously up the road, eyes darting from side to side as they took in the cheering crowds were clothing that contained Voltron's colors, or caps made in the image of one of the Lions. Some held signs in their hands that depicted drawings of the Paladins, the Lions, or even Voltron. The opposition, however, held signs and shouted at the group that made Lance recoil, despite Lotor having given him warning in advance that there were people in the universe who held no love for Voltron or its Paladins. The rest of his teammates weren't as well prepared for the situation as he was.

"Is that sign….calling us murders?" Hunk voiced aloud, it was meant to come off as a whisper, but the shock in his voice amplified his words enough that everyone could hear them.

Strange rotten fruit began to sail through the air, most of it splattered onto the street, but some made contact with the Paladins limbs. A rotten fruit that looked oddly similar to a tomato splattered against Keith's hair that had him baring his teeth at the opposition crowd, many of them getting riled up by his hostile reaction. Kolivan reached out, placed a hand on Keith's shoulder and forced him to continue forward as any action or reaction that Keith or any of them would have would only result in hostility and heightened tensions to rise around them.

A cold, heavy weight settled on them all as Lotor ushered them along. A weight that they weren't just saviors and warriors of peace in many's eyes, but that they were also villains as well who equally had placed wounds in others hearts just as easily as they had placed hope and admiration.

"Don't lament any of your actions," Lotor's voice rose above the din of the crowds. "War can never be boiled down to black versus white; good versus evil. We all commit actions that we think are for the overall good, but sometimes those actions have unintended consequences as well."

It was a long journey to the building in which the dinner would take place. It was a magnificent building made of twisting wood and glass that was dazzling beneath the sunset that slowly sunk beneath the horizon. There were a few Olkari hanging around the infinity shaped fountain and blooming flowers that were artfully placed in front of the building along with a variety of alien species that belonged to the Coalition. All eyes turned upon them as they walked across the cobblestones. The leader of the Solleri, a rather larger bovid shaped alien with horns spiraling out of its head, painted in an array of colors and dressed head to toe in colorful, sheer fabric, walked on its hind hooves toward Lotor.

"Your most, venerable emperor!" The Solleri exclaimed as it reached out and grasped one of Lotor's hands in its hooves. "I am Xemiri, the leader of Solleurus. Please, you and your guests must come in."

They were all lead into the building by Xemiri, to a rather large room containing several balconies. The balcony windows were open letting in a cool breeze that also gave the guests an excellent view of luscious gardens below.

"Please, take a seat, everyone." Xemiri's hooves motioned toward the long elaborate table that had been set up in the middle of the room.

Leaning close to Lotor, Lance stood on his toes so that his lips were remotely close to Lotor's ears despite the height difference between them. "Is it bad that I can't help but think of Earth cows at this moment?" He whispered into the Galra Emperor's vicinity, earning him a soft laugh that had everyone's gaze turning toward them and Lotor clearing his throat in a measure to make it seem as if he'd had something stuck in his throat.

They all took a seat around the table, with Lance stuck between Allura and Lotor, Coran was seated next to Allura's empty side, Shiro sitting across from him with Hunk to his left and Pidge to his right. Matt was right beside his little sister and to his other side was Keith and the rest of the Blade of Marmora.

Other bovine shaped Solleri came into the room with empty glasses and bottles of drinks. Glasses were placed in front of them, bottles of a clear colored drink were poured into their glasses that carried with it a mixture of a scent that seemed like a combination of apple juice and champagne. Reaching out, Lance's fingers were about to wrap around the thin stem of the glass when Lotor's hand shot out, sliding the glass away from Lance's fingers and replacing the Paladin's drink with his own. Lance frowned at the gesture as Lotor leaned in close to him so that his lips were close to the Paladin's ears. "A measure to make sure no one poisoned your glass." Leaving Lance with no room to argue, Lotor tipped his head back slightly and took a sip from the glass. He stared at Lance out of the corners of his eyes, with a look that bade Lance to keep up appearances and take a sip from his own glass even if Lotor were to begin foaming from the mouth and writhing on the floor.

Reaching out, Lance grasped the stem of the glass between his fingers and brought the glass to his own lips, taking a small sip as if the less of the drink he consumed the fewer effects a potential poison would have on his body. The liquid slid across his tongue, leaving behind the sweet aftertaste of apple cider and champagne. Seconds passed by as Lance waited for, well anything to happen to him, when nothing did his shoulders slumped in relief as he took another sip from the glass and replaced it on the table.

Beside him Allura rose from her seat, clearing her throat as she did so. "Everyone, it is a pleasure to have such an occasion on Solleurus, hosted by the honorable Xemiri." She motioned to their well decorated bovine host at the head of the table. "But despite such pleasant conditions there is much that needs to be discussed today, so shall we begin?" Sinking back down into her seat was a motion for the real reason behind this Coalition dinner to begin as the voices of the guests rose and fell as one topic and then another was brought up during the dinner.

With each course that was brought before them, a new topic arose with Allura and Lotor looking equally happy when much of the dinner seemed to be going in their favor. There were talks of creating interplanetary trade agreements, for the most part, was mostly settled with Allura and Lotor intermediating on behalf of the other members of the Coalition as their salads were cleared away before their appetizers came.

The topic of relocating the Galra came up during the soup course of the dinner. Lance was dividing his attention between the topic and his meal—a nut soup that reminded him of cashews with pieces of vegetables floating in the broth—when a member of the Coalition, a grub-like Taujeerian, spoke up in that robotic, monotone that was characteristic for its people. "While we can sympathize with Emperor Lotor for wanting to establish a home planet for his people and rectifying the wrongs of the past. We and speaking on behalf of many members and planets that belong to the Coalition would find it more beneficial if the matter was left in the hands of either Princess Allura or other members of the Coalition, instead—" Lotor's mouth opened, clearly unsatisfied with the option being ushered forth. It was his people, it was something that he would deal with and believed the Coalition would be more than happy to agree with. The Taujeerian fixed its singular round eye upon Lotor that a made a chill run up Lance's body as the whole scene seemed to slow down before his very eyes. "—of having the task be left to a _blood traitor's_ hands."

The whole room fell into a hushed quite as Lance jerked his lips away from his soup spoon, quickly glancing to his right he could see the shock upon Allura and Coran's faces transform in a matter of seconds into anger and fury. Whipping his head to the left, he spied a droplet of blood dribbling from the corner of Lotor's lips as his fangs sunk down into the flesh of his lower lip. The Paladin's eyes darted to the emperor's laps where he could see that his claws were extended and digging into his thighs. The tenseness in his body has Lance placing down his spoon, his eyes traversing the length of the room. His own teammates looked confused by what just happened, they knew something was going on, but not exactly understanding the depths of what just happened. Matt, however, looked ready to drive his spoon through the Taujeerian's neck; Keith looked like he had some inkling of what was going on, his own human features looking slightly feral and more Galra-like.

"A break seems to be in order," Allura called out in a clipped tone that was full of icy authority. Everyone around the table rose as the bovine servants moved forward to clear away the table of uneaten and half-eaten dishes.

As various members of the Coalition milled around talking to one another, Lotor rushed out into the hallway with Allura, Coran, and much of the members of Team Voltron following after him. Keith followed the Blade of Marmora who looked uneasy to stay in the room by themselves, Matt lingered behind looking as if he was contemplating the repercussions for murdering someone at a dinner on a planet they were technically guests on. But Pidge called out to him, forcing him to follow after his sister. As Lance followed after the Galra Emperor, he turned around to see that the Taujeerian was staring at them as they left out into the hallway. Despite being unable to tell if the alien species could make or maintain facial movements on their gelatinous body, he couldn't help the sneaking suspicion that the alien seemed to have a gleeful look upon its face as Lance speed walked into the hallway.

Attempting to keep up with Lotor's longer strides. "Lotor!" Lance called out to his boyfriend who ignored him, the fury in his veins blocking out any and everything from around him. "Hey, what was that back there!? Why'd that Taujeerian call you a blood trai—" Blinking Lance found himself pinned against the wall, the collar of his undersuit bunched up in between Lotor's claws. Behind him, Keith took a step forward, a glint in his eyes that threatened to put some space between Lance and Lotor. His knife had transformed into a sword, but Kolivan reached out and with a firm hand kept Keith rooted to where he stood. Just a few feet away Pidge was letting out a stream of curses, her limbs flailing through the air as her brother kept a tight grip on her from launching herself at Lotor's back.

"If I wanted to hear those words from your lips, Lance, I would ask." His voice dripped with an audible venom that had Lance's eyes bulging in his head. Coming to terms with the fact that everyone around him was tense by his behavior, Lotor's grip on Lance slackened until the Paladin was sliding down the wall and standing on a pair of shaking legs.

"I'm sorry," Lotor whispered, knowing that the apology wouldn't quite satisfy what he had just done.

"What was that?" Lance asked again, licking dry lips as Lotor pressed his back to a wall and sank down into a squatting position on the floor. His long limbs obscuring his face.

Allura was the one to speak up, anger still stuck to the interior of her throat. " _Blood traitor_ ," she spat out the word like it was bile coating her tongue, "was—or was supposed to be—a really old slur that originated during the days of the Altean King Gythin, during a time when relations between Altea and the Galra was at...its lowest. It was a term that describes someone who—" She paused, glancing in Lotor's direction as if the very words pained her to say, "—betrayed their own blood heritage by intermingling with other races."

The words settled heavily onto Lance's shoulders as the interactions he had with Zorak cut through him like a sword. Of the numerous times, he heard the sadistic Galran general had taunted him with that singular slur whenever he referred to Lotor; that singular slur that didn't cut through Lance until now. And though it wasn't referring to him, it still shook him to his core. Left him shaking, his hands curling into fists as he stared at Lotor.

Lotor, who was squatting on the ground, limbs wrapped around him like an abused child that had heard this very slur the very moment they could understand words. An abused child who grew up to be an adult, knowing that despite whatever challenges he would face that he'd grown a thick skin, that he wouldn't let that word hurt him anymore. But that thick skin wasn't impenetrable. It had cracks and one day it would chip and those words would hurt once more.

All Lance could see was red, his face and ears heating up as his entire body went rigid. Spinning on his heels, he didn't have time to see Lotor lifting his head up or much less his friends calling out to him as he marched back into the room. Ignoring the glances of other Coalition members who seemed shocked to see an angry Paladin, he continued marching across the room, the Taujeerian laser focused in his sight. He felt like he was breathing fire out of his very mouth and nose as he drew closer to the grub-like alien. "How dare you!" Lance breathed out, fire coating his tongue, there was an audible gasp that tore through the room. Raising a single finger, he pointed it at the alien.

"How fucking dare you!" His voice was rising by the decibel, but he couldn't contain the fire that was boiling inside of him. " Lotor is really trying to change the universe. Trying to right all the wrongs of Zarkon before him. He didn't have to come to this meeting, but you know what he came anyway in good faith to show you all! To show everyone that he isn't anything at all like Zarkon! You all want him to prove time and time and again that he isn't anything like Zarkon or the other shitty Galra without even giving him a chance! If anything I would say that some of you are far worse than any of the worst Galra I have ever met!

"And if you want Lotor to jump through hoops and hurdles, to kiss your damn asses just so you can get the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. While he's trying to change the universe, you can all remain stuck in the past and get left behind as everyone else is ushering in a new change in the universe." He jabbed that finger in the jiggly folds of the Taujeerian. "And frankly, I would be far happier, standing by Lotor's side ushering in a new change in the universe than working with the likes of you or anyone else who feels the need to be stuck in the past. Not to mention a huge, giant piece of Quiznak." Somewhere behind him, he heard Allura let out a whoop of satisfaction as he smugly turned on his feels after watching the Taujeerian's entire body turn several shades of displeasing colors.

The entire room was silent as he picked his way across the room to where his group had clearly walked in after he had stormed off. Lotor was standing at the head of the group.

As Lance walked over to them, his shoulders grew tight and sweat began to leak out of the pores on his face. He looked absolutely stressed over the prospects that he had just made the entire situation worse for everyone. "Did I just fuck up any hope of progress we were planning to make tonight?" He breathed out.

"That was incredible," Lotor whispered; there was a slight growl to his words that had Lance sucking in a breath at the unmistakable threads of desire that were laced into his words. His eyes were half-lidded with a desire that Lance discerned would have had the emperor picking the Paladin up, pinning him against a wall and kiss him until he was starving for oxygen. It didn't matter if other people were in the room. He'd probably do it too and have his ego massaged as they all watched.

"Get a room you two!" Pidge growled out as Allura cleared her throat gaining all of their attention.

There was a sly smile on her face as her gaze flickered between them both. "Shall we resume this dinner?"

Slipping back into the comfortable role of a leader, Lotor bowed his head slightly in Allura's direction. "Let's." Shooting a flirtatious look in Lance's direction as he held out his arm for Allura to take, Lotor smiled cockily as he walked back to the table. The rest of the group followed with Keith lingering behind as he pointedly stared at Lance, walking past him he whispered, "Please don't fuck your boyfriend out in the middle of dinner." There was a playful smirk on his own face that had Lance's face going beet red.

This was going to be a long dinner…

* * *

Lance was struggling for oxygen as he was forced back into the room. The door hissed shut behind him as Lotor pulled away from him, thin strands of saliva connecting Lance's kiss-swollen lips to his. Letting out a shaky breath, a whimper pulled itself from his slightly swollen lips as Lotor's hands gripped either side of his face, pulling the Paladin's body close to him so that he could pepper kisses up and down the column of Lance's neck. They were light kisses that felt like a butterfly's legs crawling along the surface of Lance's skin. Kisses that quickly turned to tiny, nibbling bites that had Lance's toes curling as he turned his head slightly to the side, giving the Galra more access to the soft flesh of his neck.

"Lotor," he breathed out softly, his hand snaking out to grip Lotor's bicep tightly as the emperor moved him backward until his back slammed against the hard metal wall of Lotor's antechamber. There was a chuckle that pulled itself from the Paladin's throat as Lotor moaned softly—the sound eliciting a pool of warmth that settled in the pit of Lance's stomach—as he let out a puff of breath against the side of Lance's neck. His own hand gripping Lance's thigh tightly as he lifted it so that Lance could hook the appendage around the Galra's waist. "Really?" Lance chuckled, "Me telling someone off gets your blood boiling?"

There was a whine in the hollow of Lotor's throat as he pulled slightly away from Lance to peer into his eyes. Their faces were close enough that it was quite offending how erotic it was for Lotor to whisper against Lance's lips. "It was much more than that. It was the fire in your eyes when you marched across that room. You looked like you wanted to murder someone—"

"I really did," Lance cut him off with an annoyed look on his face as the memory of that Coalition dinner played through his mind. "I never realized Taujeerian's could be such dicks."

With a throaty chuckle, Lotor resumed where he'd left off, "You were the most stunning thing there in that single moment." Eyes half-lidded as he spoke, Lance gasped from the inexplicable tsunami of emotions that rolled through him. Leaning forward to claim his open mouth, both men moaned as tongues sank into caverns of searing heat. Lotor's mouth infinitely a few degrees hotter than Lance's own. The Paladin felt smothered as if Lotor was trying to swallow the very fiber of his being into his own body as the emperor tipped his head to the side in an effort to gain more of an access to Lance's mouth. Pulling away with an audible pop, Lotor buried his head in the crook of Lance's neck as the Paladin's leg that was wrapped around his waist unwound itself and settled back at Lance's side.

Wrapping his arms around the Paladin's upper chest, he groaned, "You make me feel like I'm 6,000 years old again."

Lance wrinkled his nose at that statement, with a laugh bubbling in the hollow of his chest. "So what? Is that me making you feel like a kid again? Hopefully, it's your preteen years because I feel really horrible making out with you when I'm old and making you feel like you're a kid all over again."

Lotor pulled away enough that Lance could see the eye-roll he gave him. "We should go to bed, it's getting late."

Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Lotor, Lance crooked his head back and gave his best high pitched, falsetto impression that he could as he fluttered his eyelashes in the Galra's direction. "Oh, Mr. Emperor that sounds very suggestive." He pointedly stared at the sizeable, outline of the very stiff bulge that Lotor was packing in his pants. Neither could contain the peal of laughter that ripped itself from their throats.

Lance was still laughing when Lotor threw him over his shoulder and carried him off through one of the doors of the antechamber that lead into his bedroom. Inside there was a large, round bed that had a shimmery, purple bed sheet spread across it with a mountain of pillows. There was a large, circular window above the bed and a tiny projector that sat upon a vanity that mapped out an ever-changing array of various constellations upon the ceiling.

Unceremoniously Lotor dumped Lance upon the bed, the Paladin bouncing a few times upon the soft bed. When he came to a stop, he cocked an eyebrow in Lotor's direction, jutting his chin at the bulge as Lotor began to strip himself of his armor.

"Sleep, Lance." There was a slight growl to his words, but Lance knew that he meant no harm and was simply looking out for Lance's best interests.

"You know, I could—" Lance began, but his words earned him a shake of Lotor's head.

"You could, but I'm not going to force you to do something that you don't want to do nor or ready for."

Lance flashed him a grin that was all gum and pearly white teeth. "I know you wouldn't. Not unless I secretly discover that I have the hots for something like that." A laugh pulled itself from his throat as he dodged the waist cape that Lotor chucked in his direction.

Standing up from the bed, Lance stripped his armor off and the top portion of his undersuit and piled it neatly into a corner of the room until he was down to the top portion of his undersuit and a pair of white boxers that had Blue's head printed all over them. He turned around to see Lotor reclined on the length of the bed, dressed down to his sleeveless undersuit that had a thin strip of material that wrapped around the middle of Lotor's feet. Making no comment about Lance's unusual choice of an ensemble to sleep in, Lotor's white brows were raised so high up that they seemed to disappear into his hairline as he took in an eyeful of Lance's boxers. "I'm surprised it's not the Red Lion."

"Hey," Lance replied incredibly scandalized as he climbed his way onto the bed, reclining his head against a bunch of pillows as he tucked himself into Lotor's side. "Blue is the only girl in my heart. But don't ever tell Red I said that. He would probably roast me alive or drop me off in the middle of space."

"I won't." The Emperor chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Lance's body, the Paladin already drifting off to sleep. "Just make sure there's enough space in your heart for me, however."

"I'll try," Lance mumbled as the waves of sleep began to wash over him from the tiring events of the day. "Though most of that is taken up by Hunk's food and Pidge, cause she'd kick my ass if I didn't—"

"If you didn't what?" Lotor questioned as Lance's words fell into an abyss of silence, he waited, his lips curling in upon themselves as he stifled a flurry of laughter as the soft sound of snoring reached his ears.

Tucking himself in closer to Lance, he let the waves of sleep pull him under as well.

He didn't know how long he'd been sleeping for. Sleeping beside Lance had felt like a dream as he far more relaxed than he had in ages. But there was a subtle shift in the room that had his eyes snapping open, his hand darting out and underneath the pile of pillows to where a small knife was hidden. Hand gripping the pommel of the knife tightly, he yanked it from underneath the pillow, rolling onto his side where the blade of a knife met the blade of a weapon that was a cross between a Scimitar and a butcher's knife. Connected to it was a figure draped in all black, the hood of its outfit pulled up, the only thing exposed was the purple glow from the eyes of the mask that the assassin wore. Beside him, Lance stirred awake, sleep fogging his mind as he called out, "Lotor?"

"Lance, run!" Lotor growled out, his voice and the tension in it causing Lance to jolt awake. There was a string of curses that left Lance's lips as he cursed leaving his Bayard back in Red. "Run!" Lotor growled out yet again as Lance rolled out of the bed, leaving behind his clothing and armor to run out of Lotor's quarters and into the hall of the command ship.

His feet skidded against the smooth metal floor as the shadows seemed to melt off of the walls and morph into a trio of assassins that surrounded Lance. Cursing his current predicament as well as his lack of armor, Lance distanced his feet a shoulder's length apart as the first assassin charged at him, holding its weapon aloft in the air. Taking a deep breath and remembering the hand to hand combat training sessions that Lotor had given him, Lance dropped low to the ground and launched himself up at an angle, shooting his head up so that the top of his head connected with the assassin's chin, his right hand darting out to grab at the assassin's wrist. He bent it at an awkward angle that had the weapon clattering to the floor as let out a frustrated yell and tossed the assassin over his shoulder at another of his adversaries. "You know I would be a lot happier to deal with you guys if you didn't interrupt my beauty sleep."

The thought of Red popped into his mind. He needed to get back to him and grab his Bayard, send a distress signal back to the Castle-ship. Annoyance mingled with frustration began to seep into his veins as he turned and saw the two assassins that had collided with each other shakily stand to their feet, obviously less than pleased at Lance's antics. In the distance, the walls of the ship shook as an unmistakable Lion's roar shook through the walls. A smile curved across Lance's features as he faced his adversaries yet again. This time with the knowledge that back up would be soon arriving.

* * *

Sleeping peacefully with a mask over her eyes, Allura's chest rose and fell as her mice snuggled into the crook of her neck and the crest of her chest for warmth. The entire Castle-ship was silent as its occupants slept, in separate towers however roars shook the very foundation of that silence causing the occupants of the castle to stir from their sleep. Allura shot up from her own bed, the blue mouse on her chest falling into her lap as she tore the face mask from her eyes. She didn't know what prompted her to say it, maybe it was the innate connection that the Paladins or she herself as an Altean princess had with the Lions, but her spine went rigid as she whispered, "Lance."

Bolting up from her bed, she ran out into the hall spying Pidge and Keith running in her direction. Undoubtedly the other occupants of the Castle-ship would be running in her direction as well.

"What's going on!?" Pidge shouted. The space caterpillars that Pidge had taken in since finding the Green Lion hovering around her shoulders as she adjusted a crooked pair of glasses upon her face that had been haphazardly tossed on as she bolted out of her room in a sleep drenched haze. "Why are the Lions being so loud?"

"It's Lance," Allura explained as Coran, Shiro, Hunk, and Matt rounded the corner and joined everyone. "I think Red must be communicating with the other Lions, telling us that he's in danger and that means Lotor could possibly be in danger as well." She glanced at each and every one of them in turn. "Everyone get to your Lions. We have a Lance to save."

* * *

Breathing heavily, Lance's back was pressed to the cold metal of the hallway, the three assassins crowded around him blocking any means that he had of escape. Sweat dripped down the surface of his body as his brain worked at a million miles per hour trying to figure out a plan to escape this one. A blue colored cord whipped past Lance's face, wrapping around the body of his assailants and bringing them crashing against one another. His gaze traveling to where the cord had come from, he sighed in relief at seeing his friends and a bunch of guards standing at the end of the corridor.

Placing a hand over her mouth, Pidge snorted, pointing to Lance's boxers. "Nice boxers, Lance!"

Rolling his eyes at her, Lance couldn't contain the sigh that pulled itself from his mouth. "You guys can't tell how glad I am to see you." A startling realization settled itself in the core of Lance's soul. "Shit! Lotor!" Realizing that he was in the presence of Galra guards who had no inkling as to his true relationship with the emperor, he coughed, amending his words. "I think there were some assassins heading to his quarters as well."

The guards pushed past the Paladins, rushing down the hall to Lotor's quarters as Shiro made a step toward Lance and gripped him by his shoulders. "What happened?"

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Lance let out a disgruntled sigh. "We were sleeping," he whispered so that no one with a wandering ear would be able to hear them. "And I woke up to Lotor fending off one of the assassins. Holy shit!" He blinked, worry settling into his veins. "I need to see if he's okay!" Turning on his heels, Lance with his friends rushed off in the direction of Lotor's quarters.

Slipping into the antechamber, he found two guards stationed outside the door leading to the bedroom. Staring warily at them, he pointed to the door. "Can I—?" He left the question unvoiced as they glanced at him for a brief second, but ultimately let him pass. "Lotor?" He questioned as he walked into the bedroom to see Lotor standing beside the bed. A guard stood beside him, seemingly concerned by the entire situation, but Lotor waved them away.

Eyes darting to the corner of the room where he had tossed his armor and clothes, he breathed in a sigh of relief to see that they weren't there and prayed that Lotor had hidden them before any of the guards had come into the room. "Lance." There was a tenderness in Lotor's voice that had the Paladin relieved to know that the Galra was okay. A thin sheet of sweat covered his skin, however, undoubtedly from the struggle that had ensued. On the ground of the bedroom lay the dead body of the assassin that had attacked Lotor in his slip, a long gash stretched from ear to ear in the soft flesh of the attacker's neck. Dried blood coated their clothing and their mask was slightly askew, showing a few features of their face, but none of that mattered as they could all clearly see that it was a Galra. There was a wince of pain that flashed across Lotor's face and had Lance rushing forward to him as the Galra slightly twisted his torso, just enough that Lance and everyone in the bedroom could see the handle of a small knife sticking out of Lotor's side.

"I'm fine." The words slipped from Lotor's lips in an effort to placate the Paladin who already had a fistful of hair clutched between both of his hands, his brows pushed together in worry.

"How are you fine? You have a knife sticking out of your side!" The stress in Lance's voice was palpable.

"I'll be fine," Lotor reassured him as the guard at Lotor's side ushered him away to seek medical attention. Journeying through the command ship to get to the med bay was more than a little hilarious adventure. With Lance in his boxers and Lotor clearly bleeding from the wound at his side and a gaggle of humans and a pair of Alteans trailing beside him an intrigued murmur trailed behind them. An older Galran woman didn't look fazed to see Lotor's wound once he stepped into the medical bay, which really should have concerned Lance much more than it did, but tonight was one massive ball of stress that kept him on the tips of his toes. Pushing out a chair for the emperor to sit in as the older woman rifled through a bunch of medical supplies as the Paladins stood surrounded by a bunch of empty healing pods.

"How are you so blase about this!?" Lance questioned after a few minutes of silence had passed as he watched Lotor sharply wince as the older woman pressed a hand to his side and pulled the knife out in one clean motion, causing a river of blood to gush out and slide down the side of Lotor's undersuit from the now open wound.

"This isn't the worst wound I've ever gotten." Lotor groaned as the woman picked up a dark jar, uncapped it, scooped out a handful of dark cream that looked like black mud and smeared it against his side.

"Stay still." Were the only two words that passed her lips as the scent of slightly burning flesh tinged the air as the cream did its work and repaired the wound on the emperor's side.

Eyes focusing on Allura, Lotor took in a deep breath as he nodded his head in her direction. "My guards will see to it that the assassins you captured will be interrogated, but there will be no promise that they will talk." Sighing deeply, Lotor reached up to push strands of hair that clung to his sweaty skin out of his eyes. "All of you please leave, I would like to be alone for a little bit." Everyone turned to leave, but Lotor called out for Lance to stay behind. Motioning for him to step closer toward Lotor, he complied, letting the Galra lean forward so that his forehead rested against the cool material of the undersuit that stretched across the expanse of the Paladin's stomach.

"I'm glad you're safe," Lotor whispered.

"I am too, but we really have to reevaluate you stashing a weapon in your bed. Not very impressive to any potential suitors you have you know."

Chuckling at that Lotor nuzzled his forehead against Lance's stomach. Both of them were clearly weary, Lance from his lack of sleep, Lotor from having to deal with this messy situation. "Go back to my room and get some rest. My guards won't be there so you'll have no difficulty returning back by yourself."

"What did you do with—"

"—Your clothes?" Lotor answered the question with a crook of his eyebrow and a curve of his lips. "Stashed underneath the bed to preserve your modesty."

Rolling his eyes, despite the fact that Lotor couldn't see his face, he felt the vibrations from Lotor's body as a deep-rooted chuckle rumbled through him. "Are you going to be okay?" Lance's voice went soft, soft with a measure of worry and care for a person who just witnessed their boyfriend try and brush off a knife wound to the side as if it was nothing more than a paper cut.

"I will be. I just need time to myself."

"Okay," Lance sighed, not necessarily sounding super convinced, but he would trust the Galra. "We'll still need to talk about this later."

Nodding as he pulled away from his boyfriend's skin and sent him away with a tired smile. Certain that Lance was nowhere near the medical bay or any other person for that matter, Lotor gazed at the shadows of the room and called out. "You can come out now."

A hooded figure seemed to birth itself from the shadows, moving into the light some distance away from Lotor. They didn't move too close, however, just enough that he could see them and so that they had shadows at the edges of their heels in case they needed to blend quickly with the darkness of the room. Reaching up to pull back the hood that was covering their face, Lotor wasn't surprised to see the familiar coloration of pale indigo hair and a pair of horn-like appendages bulging out from her hair.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Acxa's gaze flickered to the door where Lance had just left. "That was unexpectedly...domestic." She lightly teased as Lotor bared his teeth in a playful manner that she was used to.

"Thank you for your intel. Without it, Lance would undoubtedly be dead."

"I didn't do it for my own benefit," she huffed, her eyes going soft with concern as the chuckle that tore through Lotor's body agitated the still healing wound on his side, causing his face to contort in pain.

"I know." He finally responded once the pain abided enough for him to respond. The both of them existed in that room silently as a storm of unsaid emotions and feelings danced in the air between them, but they left it untouched and untalked about.

"I need to go before she notices I'm missing." She pulled the hood back up over her head so that it obscured her features, turning on her heels, she paused and without looking over her shoulder whispered words that Lotor had silently said to himself dozens of times. "I miss you." The words had barely reached his ears when she stepped forward and melded back into the shadows.

"I know." He whispered to an empty room. "I know, but this will be all over soon."

With his wound now healed, Lotor stood from his seat and traced his steps back through the command ship until he found himself in his bedroom. Lance was sitting on the edge of his bed, his things now neatly folded with his armor resting atop his undersuit and set on the floor where he had originally tossed his things.

"You're awake." It came out more like a statement rather than a question as Lotor was surprised to see the Paladin still wide awake rather than sleeping soundly. "I thought you'd be asleep."

Giving him a shake of his head, Lance patted the empty space beside him which Lotor walked over and took. "I can't sleep after all this. Plus I can't be asleep knowing that you sleep with hidden weapons in your room."

"It's a necessary precaution," Lotor grunted as he leaned back, the back of his head and spine comfortably sinking into the mattress of the bed. Lance leaned back, resting his head against the Galra's chest. "One that I learned from Dayak as a child and has saved my life on more than one occasion."

"I know I should be concerned by your unusual childhood, but I'm pretty grateful that it kept you alive."

Lotor doesn't quite know what possessed him to do it. The mood wasn't quite right; it was nowhere near being right, but he reached out and tilted Lance's chin up, rolling on his side so that he could press his lips against the Paladin's own. Pulling away from the kiss, a wide grin stretched across his face as a cackle rumbled in the hollow of his throat. "Are we really doing this right now?" He questioned around a hiccup of laughter.

Contemplating the question, Lotor could do nothing but give a shrug of his shoulders. "They do say that fear and adrenaline make for great aphrodisiacs."

Brushing his thumb against Lance's lower lip, the Paladin stared into the Galra's eyes. "Do you want to do this right now?" The usually playful tone in Lance's voice was gone as he stared into Lotor's eyes, searching for any sort of answer that he could to the question.

Lotor found it adorable and endearing despite the obvious tenseness in Lance's body from his own nerves. "I'm more than up for this." He replied. "Though this all depends on you. Do you want this?"

Cocking his head to the side, Lance looked contemplative and for a split second, Lotor thought Lance looked like he might decline and he was okay with that. Instead, the Paladin smiled, his lips curling underneath the flesh of Lotor's thumb. "I've never done this with a guy before, but I'm up for it."

His own smile curled across his face. "We can take it slow." There was a slight growl to his words as his eyes darkened with desire, his lids narrowing as he rolled Lance onto his back so that he was hovering above the Paladin.

Lance was giddy with laughter as Lotor leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss. His long, bone-white hair hanging like a curtain from the side of his head, yet the long strands pooling at the side of Lance's head. Their lips parted allowing Lotor to snake his tongue into the warm cavern of Lance's mouth, earning him a soft moan from the Paladin as his right hand slid down Lance's arm to entwine his fingers with the Paladin's own. He repeated the motion with his left and shifted their entwined hands together so that he had Lance's hands pinned down to the bed just slightly above his own head. Lotor's tongue traced over the ridges of the Paladin's warm cavern, it glided over the smooth ridges of teeth, the bumpy surfaces of gums before coming to tangle with the saliva slicked surface of Lance's tongue.

He felt like butter melting beneath Lotor as he used his tongue and lips to kiss Lance into a drunken stupor. Needing to take a breath to calm the heady flush that was washing over his body, Lance tipped his head back away from the kiss, giving Lotor the perfect opportunity to nip and nibble at the skin of his jaw as he whispered adoring murmurations against his skin. "You're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes upon," Lotor whispered.

"You know," Lance gazed into Lotor's eyes, his teeth sinking into his lower lip in a flirtatious manner, "I get told that all the time."

With a chuckle, Lotor rolled his eyes and leaned down once more to capture Lance's lips in a heated kiss. Both men moaned as their lips connected, cocking his head to the side, Lance untwined his fingers from Lotor's grip. Reaching out he pressed his right hand against the back of the Galra's head, entangling his fingers between silken locks that were just so unfair for a single being in the universe to have. He made a mental note to ask Lotor later about what sort of products he put in his hair to get it this soft. Tugging lightly on the strands that were entangled between his fingers, Lance jerked his head back in surprise, breaking the kiss between them as a throaty moan billowed out past Lotor's lips. "I'm going to sear that moment into my brain forever."

"If you do that," Lotor chuckled as he stared at the Paladin, the smile on his face dropping as face morphed into an impenetrable mask of professionalism that he wore during every meeting Lance had seen him attend. "I will never let you live down your Blue Lion boxers."

Lance gasped a look of incredulity washing over his features. "I can't believe I'm dating someone who's evil."

"Not evil, just morally different."

"Oh?" Lance questioned with a raise of his brows as he slid himself further up the bed and propped himself up on his elbows. "Then what are your morals telling you right now?"

With a toothy grin, the Galra let his eyes lustfully rake over Lance's form. A lust that had the Paladin shivering with desire as he felt Lotor undressing him with his eyes.

"It tells me you're wearing too much." He growled out, his hand snaking out to caress the exterior of Lance's thigh. Gripping it tightly, his hand snaked down until it was wrapped around Lance's calf. Lifting the appendage, he kept eye contact with the Paladin as he turned his head, his eyes fluttering closed as he pressed a soft kiss to Lance's ankle.

That really shouldn't have turned Lance on as much as it did, but he couldn't help the jolt of electricity that seemed to shoot down into his hardened groin. Throwing his head back against the plush pillows that took up a good portion of the bed, a moan tore itself out of his throat. "I think I'm wearing an appropriate amount." He bit back, his teeth sinking into the flesh of his bottom lip as his cock throbbed in his boxers as he watched Lotor place the flat of his tongue against Lance's ankle, his eyes dark with a slow, burning fire that seemed to communicate to Lance what Lotor couldn't at the very moment:

 _Watch me._

And oh he did. He very damn well watched as Lotor slowly traced a wet, lazy line from Lance's ankle to the junction of skin, his tongue lighting a path of fire that burned as he dragged it against Lance's skin just below the edge of Lance's boxers. Covering his mouth with the tips of his fingers, Lance forced himself to remember that breathing was a necessity.

"What do you want me to do?" Lotor all but whispered huskily.

Closing his eyes for a few brief seconds, Lance all but rattled off a dozen strings of silent hail Mary's before staring Lotor straight in his eyes and pulling his hands away from his lips. "A handjob."

Smiling at that, Lotor forced Lance to sit up, sliding his own lithe body behind the gap left between the pillows and the Paladin's body. The Galra's long legs on either side of Lance as he forced the Paladin to lean back against his chest, his own bulge pressing into Lance's lower back.

Lance could hear Lotor rummaging between the pillows, heard Lotor let out a soft exclamation of excitement as he found whatever he was looking for, and reached around to deposit a bottle in Lance's hands that had the Paladin's brows wrinkling together. "Seriously!" Lance exclaimed as he turned the bright blue bottle of lube around in his hands, golden alien text glittering across the hardened plastic. "What else do you have hiding beneath your pillows? If it isn't an entire platter of desserts I'm going to be upset."

Feeling the ghost of a smile against his neck, Lance lifted his hips at Lotor's instructions, he dropped the lube on the bed beside the both of them. Nimble purple fingers slid into the band of his boxers and paused as Lotor waited for Lance's consent. With a nod of his head, the boxers were pushed down his legs until they reached his ankles—well with a bunch of shimming and wiggling on his part. His cock slightly rested against his stomach, just a little bit below his belly button. By no means was he long or ridiculously girthy, he was the average length and had a good amount of girth to his appendage. Lotor reached for the bottle of lube in Lance's hand but uttered out in surprise when Lance lightly smacked his hand away. "Actually I'm a dry sort of guy. You can just grip it, for now, go to town and I'll let you know when I need the lube."

Cocking a single brow, Lotor couldn't help but ask, "Are all Earthlings as interesting as you?"

The Paladin hissed in pleasure as the emperor carefully wrapped his hand around Lance's length and gave it a few, slow, experimental tugs that had a bead of precum glistening at the slit of his cock, his toes curling in pleasure as he relaxed back against Lotor's chest. His grip was slightly loose, yet firm as jerked his hand up and down the Paladin's length. Soft puffs of breath spilled from Lance's lips as Lotor kept a steady space stroking him; each stroke sending a jolt of electricity to the pool of warmth that rested low in his groin. His legs parted widely, giving Lotor better access to Lance's cock.

With every tug, Lotor would slowly twist his wrist in a manner that had stars blooming behind Lance's eyes, his breath rising a pitch higher, the flush of his cheeks darkening as a steady river of precum fell from his slit. He felt kisses being pressed against the side of his neck as Lotor smeared whatever lubrication touched his fingers around Lance's length and continued his movements. Moans began to fall from the Paladin's lips as he reached behind him to grip at the smooth expanse of Lotor's bicep. His grip on the Galra's bicep tightened, however, when the pangs of pleasure in his gut turned to sharp jolts of pain, he tapped Lotor's bicep with his hand. "Lube. Lube." He chanted as he tapped the Galra's bicep repeatedly. Pulling his hand away from Lance's cock, Lotor couldn't help but smirk at the small audible hiss that Lance forced through his teeth at the loss of friction.

Grabbing up the bottle of lube, Lotor flicked it open with his thumb and handed the bottle to Lance who tipped it toward Lotor's open palm, pouring a copious amount that settled in the hollow of his palm. Recapping the bottle, Lance set it aside yet again as Lotor closed his hand smearing the viscous, bright blue lube around on his hand. Reaching out, the Galra wrapped his hand around Lance's member. With a lubed up hand he stroked Lance, squeezing around his tip tightly when his hand glided over it, with each stroke more precum seemed to dribble out of the Paladin; his moans rising pitch by pitch, eyelids fluttering as his toes seemed to curl harder than before.

"Oh god. Oh god." The words tumbled from Lance's lips like a fervent prayer.

Leaning forward so that his lips brushed against the edge of Lance's ears, Lotor whispered, "That isn't quite my name." That sent him over the edge, back arching, a moan died in the hollow of his throat as his cock twitched feverishly in Lotor's hand. Ropes of cum gushed out of his slit, arching feebly in the air before coming to dribble down Lance's length and coat the side of Lotor's hand.

Breathing heavily as he lay back against Lotor's chest, he found that his entire limbs were made of jelly as he lay languidly on the bed. A sense of bliss and the afterglow of pleasure washing over him as he calmed down from the aftereffects of his orgasm. Lotor was silently running his fingers through Lance's hair as he wiped the remnants of Lance's cum on the bed sheets. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Lance sat up, his spine curving as he reached down and pulled his boxers off of himself completely. Tossing the offending material off of the bed and onto the floor, he turned around to face Lotor, a brow perfectly arched on his face.

Reclined against the pillows littering his bed, Lotor let out a pleased laugh at Lance's silent question. "Surprise me." Were the two words that he uttered as Lance moved between his legs, lying flat on his stomach he reached out, his fingers curling into the hem of the bottom half of Lotor's undersuit. Brows shooting up to his hairline, Lance was surprised when his fingers met only the heated flesh of Lotor's bare skin and the tight spandex of the undersuit.

"Is going commando more your thing or is it a Galra thing in general?"

Refusing to answer that question, a smile curved on Lotor's lips as he reached down covered Lance's hands with his, thumb hooking underneath the hem of undersuit and pulled the fabric down exposing his own cock to the cool air of his bedroom.

"Oh." Lance breathed out, his eyes transfixed on Lotor's member that had Lotor's brows scrunching together in a mix of confusion and slight concern.

"I understand the hesitation if it looks nothing similar to yours or other humans."

"No," Lance replied with a nervous laugh as he eyed up Lotor's member. It looked insanely similar to a human's own, despite the fact that it was as girthy as Lance's wrist, it rested at a forty-five-degree angle against the skin of Lotor's groin. "I just thought it would look...different?"

"Different how?"

"Matt told me that Galra dicks would have ridges, were as thick as one of Shiro's arms and glowed in the dark."

Throwing his head back, Lotor let out a deep laugh that was born from the depths of his stomach as Lance's face burned from embarrassment. "I'm never listening to Matt again." He grumbled, crossing his arms as Lotor continued to laugh.

His cheeks puffed out, his cheeks reddening from the embarrassment of the situation, but he found himself doubling over with laughter at the whole situation as well. Especially Lotor who was laughing without a care in the world, despite his dick jiggling against his skin as his entire frame shook from laughter.

"My phallus generally doesn't do that," Lotor finally hiccuped out between beats of laughter, his tone became serious, his face deadpan as he asked, "I could make it do all of those things if you wanted me to."

Brows pinching together, Lance's face scrunched up to near comical proportions as he blinked at the Galran emperor. "Firstly, I can't believe your usage of the word phallus, it sounds so prim and proper. Secondly," his lips transformed into a smirk. "I can't believe you're making jokes about your body parts now." Faux sniffling, he pretended to rub at the corner of his eyes with the tips of his fingers. "I must really be making an impression on you."

Rolling his eyes at the dramatics, Lotor motioned to his cock with a wave of his hand. "Yes, yes, your majesty." Lance harrumphed as he reached out and firmly gripped the Galra's member, his fingers barely touching each other as he gave it a few tugs.

"Please," Lotor moaned, that captivating smirk still stretching across his face. "Your majesty was reserved for my father."

Lance had to roll his eyes at their conversation, as much as one could find talking about their significant other's deceased abusive parents during sexy times, he really wanted to focus on the task before him. Leaning forward he cocked his head to the side as he continued to tug on Lotor's cock. Sticking his tongue out, tentatively he licked a small stripe up the hard expanse of Lotor's shaft. He could feel the appendage twitch underneath the tip of his tongue.

"I thought you said we were taking this slow?" Lotor asked with a quirk of his brow, his words were threaded through with a hiss of pleasure as Lance repeated the same motion again.

Eyes half-lidded with a playful light burning in his eyes, Lance's lips quirked upwards into a smirk. "This is slow."

Lips parting to say something snarky, Lotor threw his head back, a moan tearing itself from his throat as Lance set to work on the task at hand. He pressed his lips against the Galra's shaft, his tongue laving against the skin as he kept his grip tight on the member. Pressing his other hand on the meat of Lotor's inner thigh, he could feel the muscles there tightening as he dragged his lips up and down the shaft, licking and nibbling at the expanse of skin before pressing the flat of his tongue against the shaft, dragging it upwards until the tip of his tongue curled in on itself as he flicked the wet organ against the head of Lotor's cock. Sliding his hand down so that he was gripping the base of Lotor's cock, he wrapped his lips around the head of the Galra's member, causing Lotor to grown as the tip of his cock was surrounded by the warm, wet cavern of the Paladin's mouth.

Reaching out, Lotor's hand entangled itself into the locks of Lance's hair as the Paladin suckled and swirled his tongue around the appendage in his mouth. His cock twitched in the young man's mouth as Lance suckled hard and slow, shifting his head down on Lotor's cock as he swallowed inches of the member into his mouth until his lips were stretched halfway down Lotor's length. With the remainder of the unswallowed flesh that he wasn't going to force into his mouth anytime soon, he jerked his fist up and down as he dragged his lips up and down the flesh that he held in his mouth. Saliva dribbled from the corners of his lips as Lotor's moans filled the room with a sweet chorus of music that had Lance's already spent cock twitching against the satin sheets. Breathing heavily through his nose, Lance found himself entranced by Lotor's steadily rising moans and the pant of his breath that seemed to mingle with the squelching of saliva that rang in Lance's ears as he sucked firmly on Lotor's tip, his tongue tracing the underside of the head. The Galra's grip on his hair tightened as the muscles in his thighs seemed to tighten even more.

"Lance." His name fell from Lotor's lips with a throaty growl as his member fervently twitched upon the surface of the Paladin's tongue. Jerking Lance's locks, the Paladin slurped his way up the length of Lotor's cock as he could feel the member seemed to stiffen as Lotor ground his teeth together. A grunt pulled itself out of the Galra's mouth as a splash of pale, lavender cum hit Lance on his cheek. It felt thick on his skin as he moved forward to wrap his lips back around Lotor's tip, he could feel the cock twitching on his tongue as strings of cum shot into his mouth. A sweet, yet salty taste coated his tongue as he swallowed the thick liquid down as the twitching from Lotor's cock stilled and the Galra pulled the appendage out of the Paladin's mouth with a satisfied sigh.

"I'm going to go clean up." Lance voiced as he moved off of the bed, walking out into the antechamber he walked through the other door that lead to the bathroom. Turning on the tap for the sink, Lance quickly washed his face off, turned the tap off and made his way back to the bedroom where Lotor had already pulled up his undersuit over his hips. He looked absolutely serene as he lay on the bed, one eye closed, but the other open and focused on Lance as he walked across the room and picked up the boxers he'd tossed onto the floor earlier. Slipping them back on his legs, he wiggled into them before making his way over to the bed. Getting on it, he climbed across the sheets, laid down and pressed his head against Lotor's chest. The both of them content and bliss as they lay on the bed. The Galran Emperor was affectionately rubbing his hand up and down the length of Lance's back as the both of them were languidly drifting off to sleep. The Paladin's eyes were partially closed when Lotor whispered three words out into the air that had his entire body going rigid. "I love you."

Pressing the flat of his hand against Lotor's chest, he lifted his head up to stare into a pair of bright blue pupils. His mouth was hanging open in shock, no words would come past his lips. The response that should have been normal in that situation, a single _I love you too_ refused to come out; it wasn't that he didn't love Lotor, he truly did.

He just didn't think he was emotionally ready; ready within that singular moment to say those words back. Not with the same depth that Lotor said them. Yet Lotor sensed that as he reached out and forced Lance's head back onto his chest. "I know those words have much more different connotations on Earth than those that exist in my culture, but I really do love you. I love that I feel that I can be myself around you without having to be on my toes all the time, without having to feel pressure or weight on my shoulders as I mask who I truly am. There aren't many people in this universe who know the real me, Lance." He paused, staring contemplatively in the distance for a moment. "In fact, I think there's hardly anyone who does...except for you." Leaning down, the Galra pressed his lips against the top of Lance's temple. "So don't think that you need to respond right now or that you owe me an answer. I want to hear you say it when you're ready to."

With that, tucking an arm underneath his head, Lotor sunk back into the pillows behind him as Lance pressed his ear flat against the Galra's chest, listening to the _thump-thump_ of his heart pounding in his chest as it rose and fell. The thumping of his heart soon mingled with the soft sighs that fell from his lips, singling to Lance that he was fast asleep. Lifting his head up slightly so that his chin was now resting on Lotor's chest, he stared at unblemished skin, a face that was relaxed and free of worry as Lotor slept. It tugged at the strings of his heart to think that for the first time in a very long existence for Lotor, he was allowing himself to sleep so freely around Lance. It brought a smile to the Paladin's face as rested the side of his face against the expanse of Lotor's chest once more. The Galra's heartbeat pulling him under the waves of dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: Well here's some smut for you guys. Hopefully my fic doesn't get deleted since I know is very...militarian when it comes to what can be posted on here. Worse case scenario this same fic is also on A03, so you can also find it there.**


	18. The Traitor

It'd been months since the Coalition dinner and everything seemed to be going well for the first time in a long time for Lance. There wasn't anything that threatened the Paladins for once, besides the occasional skirmishes from Galra forces that opposed Lotor's leadership and as a result created situations that the Paladins had to respond to. Especially if a Galran leader decided that the best way to create their own opposing army against Lotor was to attempt to conquer a planet for its resources that the Paladins had liberated once before.

But overall, much of everyone's time was spent in meetings and bonding with one another. Lance and Lotor spent much of their time either on dates or relaxing in areas of the Castle-ship where Lotor didn't have to be careful to hide their relationship. And it seemed that everyone was getting along with Lotor much more now as well.

Lotor would spend some evenings with Pidge, their heads hunched over datapads stuffed with information as he taught her about Galra technology. It intrigued Lance to no end to the point that he had to ask Lotor about it.

"We have an agreement." Were the only words that Lance could get out of him.

It had him doubled over in laughter as his brain put two and two together. "She's bribing you?" He hiccuped out through the laughter that had tears springing to the corner of his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, Lotor reached up and pulled Lance down into his lap. Pressing a hand to Lance's left cheek, his face was as smooth as a stone worn down by the waves of an ocean. "I don't get bribed. Pidge just...offered me a mutually beneficial deal that I couldn't refuse. If anything she fell for a carefully orchestrated plan." He leaned in closer to the Paladin, pressing their lips together.

"Gross!" A voice behind them shouted. The two of them pulled away from each other abruptly, they both turned to see Pidge standing near the doors of the lounge. She held a datapad in her hand. "Get a room you two." She pointed a single finger at Lotor. "And I did indeed blackmail you." She curled her finger back into her hand, rotating her wrist, she slowly curled back her middle finger and smiled gleefully at Lotor as she walked backward out of the room.

Groaning Lotor pressed his forehead against Lance's shoulder. The Paladin was letting out an infectious laugh at Pidge's shenanigans. "Is it bad that I sometimes get the desire to throw her on an abandoned planet?"

Shaking his head, Lance simply smiled. "That's the feeling you get when family bugs you."

Lotor hummed at the word as if it was a foreign concept to him. Which it definitely was, considering his own history with Zarkon and the lack of it with his own mother. "Family, huh?"

There were days where Lance would find Lotor with Keith. The sound of blades clanging together reverberating around the training room. Lotor with his sword and Keith with his own Galra blade, the Galra Emperor pushing the young Blade of Marmora member back with every single step that he took. Smiles plastered on both of their faces as Lotor paused mid-fight to correct Keith's stance in the appropriate manner that it should have taken in traditional Galran swordsmanship.

With Hunk, the Yellow Paladin would spend time with both Lance and Lotor, he'd plow them both with whatever food he'd been experimenting with for the day. There were a few times where Hunk would make enough treats and pack them up in Yellow. All three of them would travel to Balmera to see the state that the planet was still undergoing as it returned to a healthy state after years of mistreatment from the empire. Yellow and Red touched down upon the short stalks of grass that stretched farther than the eye could see. There were patches of brown dirt that still poked through the planet, but it was healthy and looked far better than when it was barren and dying. White crystals seemed abundant upon the planet; thriving and growing as all three of them climbed out only to be greeted by the Balmerans. The first time they had all seen Lotor, they looked shocked and wary to see the Galran Emperor on the planet. Fears that they were being reconquered and subjugated to a living hell that the Paladins had freed them from clearly ran through all of their minds as Lotor had frowned at a pair of children who clung to their mother's legs, hiding their faces behind her as if Lotor was a terrible boogeyman that would rip their souls from his body with his fangs.

It took some placating on Lance and Hunk's parts to convince the Balmerans that Lotor wasn't there to enslave them or endanger their planet. Hunk was able to get through them more than Lance could ever have. When Shay and her family poked their head out from the throng of people that surrounded them, they knew that at least they'd convinced Shay's family that Lotor came in peace.

With each passing visit that they made to Balmera, it was apparent that the people were beginning to warm up to Lotor. Children became a little more daring as they tugged at Lotor's waist cape, ran between his legs, and ran in glee whenever Lotor would humor them by flashing a glimpse of his fangs.

There were evenings where Allura and Coran would find themselves in the lounge with Lotor, projections of a now destroyed Altea hovering above them all as they regaled Lotor with tales and history of their lost culture and people. They bonded with him over tales of Allura's carefree childhood, where she would whisper of moments in which she would sneak into the castle kitchen and fill the pockets of her skirt with as much seaberry tarts as she possibly could, running out of the kitchen as fast as her tiny feet could carry her once the cook turned around and realized that many of the treats he'd just finished baking were no longer on the counter. Laughing jovially, Coran wiped tears out of the corner of his eyes as he realized that Allura was the source of rumors that had swirled around the castle for weeks about there being a ghost that stole tarts. Promising that she would ask Hunk to recreate her favorite childhood treat so that Lotor could have some. A pleased smile curved across Lotor's lips as he thanked the princess with a geniality that had her shoulders sagging in relaxation.

Out of all of them, Lotor seemed wary of Shiro more than any of the other Paladins. He never shared his sentiments as to why even when Lance questioned him about it. He'd merely shrugged his shoulders and explained to the Paladin that he had reasonings as to why he wasn't quite so ready to extend any open arms to Shiro as readily as he did with the others. He spoke to Shiro as much as he did the with all of them, but whatever he did have to say were spoken in clipped and short sentences that revealed very little to the Black Paladin. Lance hopped that it was just going to take some time for Lotor to come around to Shiro.

Overall, Lance and Lotor spent much of their time together or with the other Paladins. One such evening they all found themselves in the lounge, relaxed against the seats as Coran set up the board for a round of Mana & Monsters.

"So that's how you play the game?" Lotor asked a brow arched perfectly above his eye as he slowly turned his game piece between his thumb and index finger, examining it.

"Yep, just pick a class for your character and imagine a backstory and we're good to go. It's really a lot like Earth's version of Dungeons and Dragons." Pidge answered as she shoved a fistful of popcorn into her mouth, her cheeks puffing up like a squirrel storing nuts for the winter.

Once everyone had decided on their characters and class, Coran began a new campaign for the game.

Lance threw his hands up in the air, a sigh of exasperation forcing its way through his nose as the bowl of popcorn that he balanced between his legs wobbled precariously. They were nearly half an hour into the game when Lance's brows pinched together and he had to swivel his head in the Galra's direction. "Lotor, you can't kill the shop clerk!"

"Why not?" Lotor huffed as if Lance was being the ridiculous one in this scenario. "He's holding the items we need in order to find the Crown of Altemeria. It's quite reasonable to just kill him, take the map and the Key of Seven Songs and be on our way. If anything the shop clerk is the one being unreasonable by asking that we go out of our way to slay an entire mountain of Dzaars, find his lost rabbit, and pay him 3,000 rubies when we could just kill him and take what we need."

"You know," Hunk began, scratching at his chin inquisitively, "Lotor is actually making a lot of sense here."

Lance whipped his gaze in his friend's direction. "Hunk, please don't encourage him."

Somehow they all stubbornly ended up agreeing to Lotor's plan. The Galra's face lit up with glee when their team gained the materials needed to continue on their quest. Leaning into Lotor's shoulder, Lance breathed out with a sigh, "I hate you."

"I doubt that." There was a warmth and tenderness in his voice that had Lance melting into his side with a sigh as they continued their campaign. This moment was perfect, these past few weeks had been perfect for Lance and he felt nothing could ever change that.

They'd just fought off a pack of Twuli when Allura's communicator lit up. Glancing down at the device, her eyebrows raised slightly in surprise to see that it was Keith. "Pardon me, everyone." She announced as she rose from her seat and made her way out of the lounge and into the hallway. She tapped the communicator, accepting Keith's call, causing his face to hover above the device as it displayed a holographic projection of his face. She slightly frowned, her mouth wrinkling in a way that it did when she looked contemplative. There was something slightly...different about Keith and she couldn't put a finger on what it possibly could be. "Keith, why are you calling so late?" She questioned. It was nearly in the wee hours of the night and it was strange for him to be calling while he was in the midst of a secretive mission that he'd only given her and Coran vague details about when he mentioned that he wouldn't be returning for quite some days before leaving.

She hadn't been quite too worried. There were some complexities and nuances with the Blade of Marmora that even their allies weren't privy to. So it wasn't far and in between when neither Keith nor the other members of the Blade couldn't tell the Paladins of Voltron about the details or circumstances of their missions.

"Allura, I'm going to need you to round everyone up." There was fear and trepidation underlying his words that had a thrum of fear surging through her.

"Why? What's going on?"

Keith let out a puff of breath through his nose as he tore his own gaze away from the holographic projection of Allura to look behind him to where his mother, Krolia, was sitting with their passenger comforting her as she wrung her hands nervously together. He studied her quickly, taking in the pigtails that graced her head and formed a crown braid with arching bangs, her slightly pale skin that had a yellowish tint to it before his eyes settled on the cyan Altean markings that marred her cheeks. Turning his head back around to settle on Allura's holographic projection, he stared deeply into her eyes. "We have a problem."

It took a while for Keith to pilot the ship to the Castle, considering how far away he was from the team's location to the quantum abyss. He finally managed to make it and was climbing out of the ship into the docking bay when he saw from a distance the doors to the bay opening with Allura rushing through them.

"Keith!" Allura shouted his name, worry, and trepidation replaced by a general relief at having the half-Galra back again. Keith didn't have time to address the little gasp that fell from Romelle's lips at the sight of Allura rushing toward them. "What's going on?"

He didn't reply at first right away, instead, he reached out to pull her into a tight hug that he never wanted to let go from. He knew not much time had passed since he was gone, but to him, it felt like two whole years lost in the abyss. "I missed you guys."

"Keith," Allura laughed a little nervously, "you were only gone for 3 days." Her brows crinkled as she wormed her way out of the hug. "Did you get taller?" Her eyes widened in shock as she glanced around him to see Romelle and Krolia standing there, along with Cosmo. "Is that a cosmic wolf?"

"I'll explain all of this later, but for now where is everyone?"

* * *

Frowning, Lance drummed his fingers against his bicep as he milled around in the bridge with the rest of his teammates and Lotor. Allura had suddenly asked everyone to assemble here, she wouldn't explain why, but simply assured them that she would be back. Lance was getting restless as a foreboding feeling settled into the pit of his stomach that something wasn't right. He was about to push himself off the steps that he was sitting on when the door to the bed slid apart with a hiss revealing a graved faced Allura standing beside a slightly taller Keith, a Galra woman, and—

"Is that an Altean?" A shocked whisper left Coran's lips, his eyes slightly widening as he stared at Romelle with the growing realization that he and Allura probably weren't the last of their people.

Shock and intrigue washed over everyone, but Lance couldn't ignore the bristle of suspicion that tingled at the back of his neck. Turning his head in Lotor's direction, he caught the pinch of his brows and the tense muscles in his jaw as he looked startled at Romelle's appearance. The female Altean was glaring at him as she lifted a single hand and pointed an index finger at the Galran Emperor. "Lotor has been harvesting quintessence from Altean's for ages!" The words rushed out from her mouth in a storm of agitated fury as shock and cynicism swept over everyone.

Allura's mouth immediately flattened into a thin line, Coran's eyes swiveled to where Lotor quickly shot up beside Lance, his gaze burned with suspicion and an underlying current of anger.

"I come from a colony full of thousands of Altean's who are descendants of my people who were on trading expeditions when the Galra attacked and destroyed Altea." Romelle continued.

Something just wasn't adding up here to Lance as he stood up from where he sat. Something didn't _feel_ right, much less _seem_ right. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at their new guest. "Then if you come from a colony where there are thousands of Alteans, why are you the only one Keith brought back?"

She glared at him, her mouth twisting in annoyance as Allura angrily spat out at him. "Lance, that isn't the point!"

"Then what is the point!?" Bittnerness coated his words. "Are we just going to believe her when there's no proof that Lotor's done anything she's claimed?"

"The proof that I have," Romelle sneered as she continued to glare at him, "is watching my own brother die right before my very eyes as he told me that the new colony Lotor claimed he was sending my people to was merely a fabrication and a ploy for harvesting my people's quintessence."

"We saw the colony, Lance," Keith whispered, there was pity in his eyes that undoubtedly this was the worst news that anyone could have delivered to Lance. "We saw the facility where Altean's quintessence was being harvested...everything she's saying is true, Lance."

Shaking his head as a feeble smile twisted itself onto his lips, Lance stared at his boyfriend. "Tell them you would never do something like that. I know you and you would never do something like that. I've seen how much you love Altea...how much you love your heritage and there has to be an explanation for all of this. Tell them it isn't true." He pleaded desperately with him, his voice cracking on his words as he watched Lotor's eyes flutter shut, his chest rising as he pulled in a breathe and let a mask he hadn't worn in a long time settle over his face.

It was like he was preparing himself to take over the blame of something that he wasn't directly involved in. Like this wasn't the first time he'd had to take up that mantle.

"Lotor is a murderer!" Romelle shouted, spittle flying from her lips as her frenzied words only heightened the animosity that was beginning to brew on the bridge.

Tears burned in the corner of Lance's eyes as he desperately attempted to plead with his friends, with people that he'd come to regard as a second family after everything they've been through. "Guys, please…"

But they ignored him. The anger and fury they all held for the past actions of the Galra Empire—the animosity they felt—clouded their rational judgment. "He's a murderer just like his father!" Pidge snapped, none of them picking up on the subtle twitch of Lotor's lips as he was compared to a man that had abused him; had tossed him out and disowned him; had branded him a criminal worthy of being killed all for the sake of a measly bounty and a dishonor that he had felt his own son had brought about upon the empire.

"You know nothing about what you speak." Lotor snarled back, his words unusually calm and collected despite the growing animosity in the room.

The bridge became awash with flashing red lights as blaring sirens filled the room, drowning out a growing clamor as Coran announced that the hangar had been breached. In the corner of Lance's eyes, he saw a luminescent indigo glow, whipping his head in its direction he saw something feral burning in Shiro's eyes as his prosthetic arm glowed a luminescent shade of purple. "Shiro?" He questioned as the Black Paladin let out a feral roar that had everyone turning their attention on him as he began to attack the very friends he'd made through conflict and struggle.

Everything descended into chaos as Lance reached out and gripped Lotor by the arm, even as the grunts and groans of his friends reached his ears as they tried to fight back against Shiro. His mouth parted to say something to the Galra, but he was interrupted by a feral growl of words. "Lance, get out of the way." Lance turned his head at the sound of Shiro's voice, behind him his friends lay unconscious on the ground.

Yanking his hand off of Lotor's arm, he stood protectively in front of the Galra, his arms were outstretched despite the slight tremor wracking through his body as he feebly tried to convince himself that his smaller frame compared to Shiro was going to be a good shield to protect Lotor with. He cursed himself for leaving his Bayard back in his room, but who would suspect that any of this would be happening right now? That one of their own was attacking them aboard a space they viewed as a home?

"I don't think that's going to happen." He replied snarkily as Shiro coldly grinned at him.

"That works just fine with me."

He blinked just as Shiro's leg connected with the side of his neck, there was an audible crunch as the force of it sending him flying a few feet away as his body crumpled onto the floor like a rag doll. His neck stung as he shivered in pain. The sound of a sickening punch reached his ears as the edges of his vision began to swim with darkness. The doors to the bridge glided apart to reveal Zethrid and Ezor, standing there cockily as if this nothing more than a waltz into the space mall. Ezor saw him, pulling a hand off of her hip, she wiggled her fingers at him in greeting as he watched Shiro walk toward them—Lotor tossed over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

"Lotor," the Galra's name fell from his dry lips as the wave of unconsciousness pulled him underneath its icy depths.

The only thing he remembered was the sound of the bridge doors hissing shut.

* * *

Groaning in pain, a shiver raced through his body as his temple throbbed in agony. Eyes fluttering open, Lotor squinted at the unfamiliar hallway that he found himself in, before noticing the tight pressure on his left bicep and pressure around his wrist that undoubtedly meant he was handcuffed. Turning his head to see what the tight pressure could be on his bicep, he was unsurprised to find a metallic hand gripping him tightly.

Despite his pounding headache, he quirked a brow in Shiro's direction. "A clone? I should've known." He hummed inquisitively to himself.

"We'll take it from here." Zethrid gruffly announced to the Shiro clone as she and Ezor appeared before Lotor. The clone released his grip on Lotor's arm, causing Zethrid to reach out and grip Lotor roughly by the arm. Her grip was tight, he could nearly feel her meaty fingers attempting to crush the bones of his arm despite layers of flesh and fibers making that impossible. But considering that he'd seen her rip people in half before, she was being lenient by keeping her grip that tight. She jerked him along as the trio traversed down a long hall, it caused him to trip and stumble as he quickly collected himself enough to hear the annoyed huff in the hollow of her throat.

She had every right to be angry, every single one of his generals had a right to be angry with him after Narti's death. There were certain things he should have told them, certain things that he shouldn't have kept so closesly guarded to the tip of his tongue, but there was no use crying over mistakes made in the past.

They made their way down the hall until they were standing in front of a very tall, metallic door that slid apart upon their arrival, revealing to Lotor's eyes Acxa who stood just a few feet away from the door and the cloaked back of the Haggar. Scowling in disgust at her appearance, he made no attempt to hide his displeasure or disgust with her presence.

"Prince Lotor," the witch called out to him in her gravely voice, he watched as she reached up to grip the cloth of her hood with both of her hands as she slowly turned around to face him, pulling her hood down to expose the features of her face. Her eyes were cold and frigid as ice as she peered down at him with a look that only made the blood in Lotor's veins run cold along with the shock and rage that coursed through him. "My son." There was tenderness in her voice that had bile rising in the hollow of Lotor's throat as eons of suffering at the witch's hands burned in his mind.

The shock was palpable in the room. Zethrid's grip on his arm slackened as his generals took in the brown dusted skin of Haggar that normally had been disguised as a pale lavender. Her face was riddled with worn and exhausted lines that conveyed her lengthy age that accompanied her red facial markings. Yet her eyes were still that same, beady tuscany colored eyes that haunted Lotor in his sleep. Despite the efforts Zarkon had gone through to scrub any images of his wife from history, they'd all grown up with the stories of the Galra's past, how Zarkon had tried to save his pretty Altean wife. Despite her mutated features, it wasn't hard to see that this woman standing before them was an Altean.

He didn't bother lifting his head to see the distraught look upon Acxa's face or the pity that burned in her eyes as her brows pinched together in an attempt to process everything that was going on.

Honerva's eyes flickered over her son's face, studying the twisted scowl of his lips that exposed the sharp edge of his fangs or the look of absolute fury on his face. If he wasn't restrained he very well would have charged after her and ripped her apart with his bare hands. "The anger you feel towards me is...to be expected." She continued to stare down at him as she addressed him. "But understand that the events that transformed me into the witch Haggar also shrouded any glimmer of maternal instinct that I may have had for my one and only child."

He was shaking, seething with rage as the hot pinprick of tears burned in the edges of his eyes. He felt like he couldn't breathe as he words sunk into his bones, into the core depths of his heart as her words soaked into him. He wanted to laugh bitterly, to scream, to cry….to do anything as he words rattled in the interior of his brain. He felt that her words were hollow. What had happened to her had shrouded the very little bits of maternal instinct that she should have had for her only son? She may have very well told him to his face that she had very little to none of the maternal instincts for him that mothers were supposed to possess.

"However," she continued, "you have continued the very work I started all that time ago and have indeed seen it through to heights I could have only imagined. Your never-ending pursuit of knowledge is tru—"

The puzzle pieces snapped into place in his mind. "You." The single word was released in a snarl that had Honerva narrowing her eyes at him. "You were behind the missing Altean's weren't you?" He could feel the shift in the room as his general's sense of confusion directed itself toward him. He watched the corner of Honerva's lips twitch into a satisfied smirk like a proud parent who was gazing at some wonderful milestone or accomplishment that their child completed.

It disgusted him.

"It was a task that needed to be done. Something that your father would have understood. Something that you should understand as your mother—"

"Enough!" Lotor snarled, anger rolling off of him in waves. "My mother ceased to exist when Honerva drew her last breath. Do not believe for a moment that I would ever accept you as kin. You are an abomination, a twisted perversion of something that was once pure and beautiful. The end is near witch." His own lips quirked upward into a sadistic half-smile, his words dripped with malice. "I know you can sense it. If you beg for mercy now, maybe I will take pity on you when the time comes. Just maybe I'll end your life with the very same sword that's coated with your beloved husband's blood."

Her eyes darkened with disappointment, lifting a single hand she waved it in his direction dismissively. "Take him away." She commanded as Acxa turned slightly as Zethrid released her grip of him. Reaching out she gingerly touched the flesh of his arm, causing him to turn his head slightly so that he gazed into her eyes for a few brief moments.

A silent conversation was exchanged between them as the half-Galra nodded her head ever so slightly. In the blink of an eye, Lotor had lifted his arms above his head, spinning out of the way so that he was behind Acxa as she quickly unholstered her gun from her side. Her index finger curling around the trigger as she pointed the muzzle in Honerva's direction.

She pulled the trigger. A blast of energy surging from the muzzle of her gun and toward Honerva, who disappeared just mere fractions of a second before the energy blast hit her. The half-Galra scowled as she quickly shoved her gun back into the holster attached to her belt, turned and settled on freeing Lotor from his cuffs.

"Did you just kill her!?" Ezor shouted in disbelief as she pressed her hands against her head.

"Are you working with Lotor?" The confusion from Zethrid's question melded in with her shock and disbelief at the event that she had just witnessed unfold before her eyes.

Their questions rushed and filled with confusion seemed to collide with each other and reached both Axca and Lotor's ears with a hurried breath that molded the individual questions into a giant, convoluted mess.

Lotor huffed as the cuffs clattered down to the ground. His wrists now free, he rubbed at the sore flesh with his hands as he turned to address his generals. "I know I have a lot to explain to you guys, especially after everything I've pulled, but I promise I will explain everything in due time. Right now, I can assure you that she isn't dead. But if you're with me then we need to get to the Sincline ships and leave right now."

Ezor and Zethrid exchanged a glance with each other. The slimmer alien groaned as she gave a shrug of her shoulders. "Oh, what the hell, this is the least craziest thing that's ever happened to us."

Cocking a lopsided smile as Ezor turned her gaze upon Zethrid, the larger half-Galra shrugged her shoulders as well. "Oh, what the hell, I might as well make use of my free time."

Ezor swiveled her gaze back to Lotor as she pointed a single finger at him. "After this, you are so making it up to the three of us with an all-exclusive spa vacation."

A smile wormed its way across Lotor's features as he settled into the comfort of being surrounded by his generals again. "I promise on my honor that I'll make that happen once we get out of her and take care of a number of things."

It didn't take them long to find their ships or launch into space once they made it into the hangar bay. "Sir, where are we going?" Acxa's voice crackled in Lotor's ears.

"To the Castle of Lions." He needed to explain his side of the story to Lance. He didn't care if the other Paladins chose to believe him or not, all that mattered to him was Lance hear his side of the story and choose to believe it for himself or not.

Acxa's frown was almost audible to his ears as her voice crackled over his communication device yet again. "Sir, the wormhole deposited us on the far side of the Sithzonian system. It would take multiple hyperspace jumps and even then it will take some time."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"Ooh," Ezor cooed over their communication devices. "While we're traveling there can we please talk about Honerva? I mean how has she managed to continue looking that young despite being a literal zombie after eons…." She settled into a fast-paced babble that lulled Lotor into a sense of ease as he watched planets and stars drift by.

It took them quite some time to reach the coordinates where the Castle of Lions had been before Lotor had been kidnapped and whisked away. He had hoped that Coran and Allura hadn't decided to move the castle as a necessary precaution. When they neared the coordinates, Lotor wasn't all that surprised to see the Lions floating in wait for him. They were all there, he noted, save for the Black Lion that was unusually absent, which meant Keith was nowhere to be found.

"You betrayed us." Allura's voice hissed in his ear, "You betrayed and used all of us. You're more like Zarkon than I could have ever imagined."

He squinted. It was a low blow and the both of them knew it. It didn't mean he wasn't above making a few low blows of his own. "What about your father?" He countered back. He ignored the sharp hiss of breath that Allura pulled into her lungs and instead focused on the Red Lion. "Lance," he whispered, "please all I came here to do was talk. Tell my side of the story. Please, can we just talk?"

Inside Red's cockpit, Lance's hands were shaking as he drew in a staggered breath, his eyes were pinched closed as Lotor's very voice filled his ears. He could feel unshed tears burning behind his eyes as Lotor called out his name once more.

"Leave him alone!" Pidge's shrill voice crackled over everyone's communicators. "Haven't you hurt him enough!?"

Tongue darting out to wet dry lips, Lotor breathed through his nose at the deafening silence that the lack of Lance's response left behind. If they wanted to make him out to be a villain, he very well might see it through as one. "Have it your way then," he whispered, his eyes briefly falling shut, before snapping open with a cold, detached gaze. "Attack the Lions." His words came out in a monotone chill as the Lions moved into a defensive formation.

In his cockpit, tears were falling freely from Lance's eyes as he danced and weaved his way from the Sincline's attacks as it shot powerful rays of energy at them. The groans and screams of his teammates rattled in Lance's ears, someone screamed out Keith's name. Causing him to lift his head to see the Black Lion rushing toward them. "Guys! We need to form Voltron!" Keith shouted into their communication devices. They transformed into Voltron, but despite their belief that they had the upper hand for a few mere moments, the Sinclines still proved to be a worthy adversary against them. Shocking them a few moments later as Lotor opened up a rift and traveled through it.

Something else seemed to be happening to the Galra as well, when his generals were shot out from their ships, causing the empty hulls and the ship that Lotor was piloting to merge into some sort of Voltron-esque monstrosity.

It disappeared into a rift and kept reappearing as they continued to get pummeled. It wasn't until the space they were in was littered with the lingering effects of the rift that they traveled through one, intending to take everything on a level playing field. The effects of all that quintessence powering up Voltron—powering up them—had Keith commenting about how powerful he felt as they began to gain the upper hand in the fight.

But Lance noticed something as he felt removed from the fight. Everything felt distance as he watched the Sincline twirl and float among the particles of quintessence; his friends cheering for Lotor's death as the cosmic particles heightened their negative emotions. "Guys." He mumbled, even as his friends ignored him in the heat of their frenzy. "Guys!"

Voltron glowed a brilliant white color. It was like a star collapsing in on itself as the giant robot vibrated until the Lions shot off in random directions, floating aimlessly through all of the quintessence.

"What just happened!?" Pidge shouted shrilly through their com devices.

"We weren't in unison." Hunk supplied, his voice threaded with annoyance as if this was all one giant inconvenience. "So we split."

"It's because I can't do this!" The words flew from Lance's lips. "Don't you guys see what's happening to you! You're becoming corrupted by all of this quintessence. You guys are literally advocating to kill Lotor like we're trying to plan a picnic. We're no better than Zarkon right now."

There was a silence between them all as Lance's words sunk into them, in her own cockpit Allura shook her head as the weight of everything settled into her bones. "Everyone, we need to leave here as fast as we can."

Pidge took that moment to speak up, "As much as being here is a scientific advancement in its own right. I'm going to have to agree with Allura here and say we make that pronto, considering all of the rifts Lotor opened up are creating a quantum disturbance in the local area."

"Um, mind translating that into layman terms for the rest of us?" Keith huffed out.

"If we don't get out of here, we and this entire system are going to be turned into one giant pile of nothingness."

They aimed their lions for the closest rift portal, the Castle-ship waiting in the distance, but Lance kept Red pointed toward where the Sincline drifted aimlessly in space. "Guys, I'm not leaving Lotor."

"Lance—" Allura began, but Lance shook his head, cutting her off with a ragged intake of breath.

"I can't leave him behind….I-I just can't. I'm not leaving him behind when he's this vulnerable."

"Lance," Keith growled out his name, annoyance and frustration dripped from his words. "Pidge. Just do it."

The first syllables of a question burned on the tip of Lance's tongue. One that he didn't have time to voice as Red was hit with a blast of energy that had vines wrapping around the Lion, shutting down any and all of its systems. "Alright, let's get out of here." Keith voiced as Lance felt the force of another Lion pushing against Red, forcing him up toward the rift portal that his teammates were exiting from.

Searing, plump tears were streaming down Lance's face as he numbly listened in on everyone's plans to take care of the portals that threatened to collapse the entire quadrant and even beyond that. He numbly listened to them remorsefully talking about sacrificing the Castle-ship; sacrificing the home they'd been living in for nearly two years. A home they would have to evacuate.

Lance was numb as he set about saving his possessions. He made his way to the room where he was storing Kattlnecker, the cow mooed, huffing a gust of breath against Lance's skin as she nuzzled her wet nose against his cheek almost as if she could sense his sadness. "Me too, girl." He breathed out as he pressed his forehead against her muzzle. "Me too."

With all of their possessions packed up, they quickly evacuated the castle, watching from a distance as the castle was consumed by the rift. A flash of brilliant color exploding before their very eyes until all that remained of the castle was a small diamond that Yellow swallowed up.

"What do we do now?" Hunk's voice crackled over all of their communication devices.

"I suppose we find a planet and reconvene," Allura suggested as Coran quickly set about finding a nearby planet.

They traveled to it and got out of their lions to rest for a bit. Wrapping his arms around him, Lance stood alone, his friends keeping some distance away from him. He needed the distance after everything that had just gone down, he was still sorting through his own feelings as Keith explained to everyone the cloning facility he had saw. How clone Shiro had attacked him and how he had seen Shiro's spirit in Black.

It freaked everyone out, to say the least. They'd gone on for so long without realizing that one of their close friends had died or even had been replaced by a clone. They'd been infiltrated by the Galra and had a mole amongst their midst for over a year and they hadn't known about it.

There was a murmur that rose up about what to do about clone Shiro's body and Shiro's spirit. Allura seemed contemplative, before ordering them to take Shiro's body out of Black. Her gaze quickly swiveled in Lance's direction as she addressed him. "You don't have to...you can just—" unknowing what to say, she trailed off uncomfortably and instead forced herself to return her attention to the task at hand. From the distance Lance was pulling in ragged, rapid breaths as Allura pressed her hand against one of Black's legs, her eyes slipped shut as an ethereal glow seemed to surround her body. Eyes snapping open, she turned and marched toward the clone's body, before sinking down to her knees and pressing her hands against the clone's chest. That glow leaking from her own body until it was concentrated in her hands. The glow seemed to transfer to the clone's body until it faded away, everyone beside Lance crowding around the body.

The clone's eyes snapped open, eyes narrowing as if the light raining down on the planet was too intense. "Keith?" Shiro croaked out past dry, chapped lips. His tongue felt heavy and parched in his mouth as he watched Keith burst into tears.

Taken aback by the sudden display of emotion from a normally stoic Keith. Shiro blinked rapidly in surprise as Keith dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around Shiro's neck. "What did I miss?" He asked, his lips quirking upward into a smile despite the tiredness in his eyes.

He shakily rose to his feet, despite the concern of his friends who urged him to sit and rest. His brows pinched in concern when he saw Lance in the distance, arms wrapped around himself and looking on the verge of a panic attack. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he breathed rapidly.

"Lance!" Shiro called out, concern threaded through his voice. "Are you alright?"

That question seemed to break whatever dam Lance was using to hold his emotions back at bay. Thick tears rolled down the Paladin's skin, there was a bitter smile that bloomed across his lips as he shook his head. "No," he replied gravely, the bitterness apparent in his voice. "I'm not fine." He dragged in an unsteady breath. "I-I left Lotor behind. I left him behind when he needed me the most and I can't apologize for that. I can never say that I'm sorry." A strangled cry rose in the hollow of his throat as the crunching sound of gravel reached his ears. Wordlessly Hunk wrapped his arms around Lance's frame as the Paladin continued to sob.

"I can't even tell him that I love him," Lance whispered as the tears continued to stroll down his face. He buried his face in Hunk's shoulder as wordlessly the rest of his friends—the rest of his family—slowly came over to him and wrapped their arms around him.

He let the pain wash over him as the tears leaked harder from his eyes.

* * *

Reclined in the seat of his cockpit, Lance let the silence envelop him as he stewed in a boiling pot of bitterness. Everyone was going through a rough time, now with Shiro back by their side. But Lance had lashed out a few hours after they had left that desolate planet after getting Shiro back. He was in pain—he was still in pain—but he'd wanted them to hurt as much as he was hurting.

It was petty and he knew it, but he was in grief and he wanted everyone to suffer as much as he was suffering. So he'd snapped and used what had happened to him during his time as a hostage as a means of hurting them. He'd unleashed every dirty little detail that none of them, save for Keith, but even then he'd brought up things that none of them knew. Things that still haunted him in his sleep and left him waking up in a cold sweat on random nights. The satisfaction from seeing hurt and horror in their eyes had felt sweat upon his tongue, but it'd been fleeting as he quickly came to have the emotion replaced by guilt. So after that, he'd spoken to none of them for days. They deserved it, he'd attempted to rationalize in his mind. But it didn't help to ease to sharp, prickling pains of guilt that wracked his body.

Shiro's voice crackled to life in his ear. "There's a nearby planet where we can stock up and refuel. We'll stop there for a few hours."

Black who was leading the pride, dipped down and aimed for a planet in the distance. It was a burgundy-colored planet with thick clouds swirling around the exterior of the planet. The Lions followed in succession, descending down to the planet where they found a sprawling city made of clay and mud. There were thousands of cloth covered stalls that made up a magnificent makeshift market. They found a clearing to land in where everyone got out of the Lions in order to stretch their legs and check out the market. Lance chose to stay near Red, his eyes pointed toward the ground. He heard the crunching of dirt beneath feet and lifted his head to see Shiro walking toward him.

There were dark circles beneath Shiro's eyes, making him look a little more tired than he'd been yesterday, but he seemed slightly more rested. "How are you holding up?"

"I should be the one asking you that question." Lance shot back. "After all, you pretty much did have your soul shoved into the body of your clone."

Shiro shrugged as if this situation was normal in the life of a Paladin of Voltron. "I'm holding up fine. This situation is definitely...the weirdest I've been in. It's not every day you get to spend an entire year with your soul trapped in a giant Lion robot. It could have been worse after all."

"Like what?" He questioned, crooking his bow in Shiro's direction.

Face going blank, Shiro stared at him, a seriousness burning in his eyes like he was preparing to deliver some bad news. "I could have spent an entire year listening to Coran talking about his youthful adventures again."

Lance threw his head back, laughter spilling from his lips to join Shiro's own. The laughter faded out as Lance cleared his throat. "How's everyone holding up after….?" Lance trailed off, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment over his actions.

"They're...dealing with everything I suppose. Everyone's still grieving over my death and trying to process the clone thing. But what you said really affected everyone."

"I feel like such an ass." Lance sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest out of habit.

Shiro let out a sharp exhale as he walked closer and stood by Lance's side. "What you did? Yes, that made you an ass, Lance and I get why you did it. You're hurting, but so is everyone else. What they did wasn't the best course of action that they should have taken and I think they're stewing on that and coming to the realization that they should have done things differently; that they should have taken the time to listen and they're all beating themselves up right now over it." Lance nodded, feeling slightly less guilty than earlier at the realization that his friends were regretting their actions. "But you didn't answer my question from earlier. How are you holding up?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Lance tipped his head back to stare up at the thick clouds that floated in the sky. "Good, I guess. I didn't cry myself to sleep last night." Sighing, he let his eyes slip shut as he scuffed the tip of his boot against the dirt. "You know, I feel like we all fucked up." He said after sometime, turning his head so that he was staring at Shiro. "Lotor's gone, leaving the Galra Empire in shambles. He was the only thing keeping the other more messed up Galra at bay, now that's gone, what's to stop them from taking power? I know I fucked up lashing out at everyone the way that I did, but...everything just hurts Shiro. Everything hurts and Lotor is gone." He slipped into explaining everything that had happened while Shiro had been gone, a pair of gigantic, several winged birds flew overhead.

Humming in contemplation, Shiro smirked at Lance. "Sounds like you love him."

Lance simply stared at him as his mind seemed to be putting the puzzle pieces together. Blinking in shock, Lance pushed himself off of Red's leg where he'd been leaning and spun to face Shiro. "Shiro, I need you to do something for me."

Looking slightly skeptical Shiro blinked at him, before nodding in his head in affirmation. "Sure, anything. What do you need me to do?"

Lance set out explaining his plan to Shiro and nearly half an hour later, the two Paladins had assembled everyone in their group into a makeshift circle. Shiro lifted his right arm, forming his hand into a fist as he cleared his throat. "Lance isn't coming with us."

Shock hit everyone like a wave crashing onto the beach.

"What!?" Pidge chocked out, her eyes darting between Shiro and Lotor.

"Where are you going to go?" Hunk questioned, his facial expression tight with anxiety at the news.

Lance's lips pulled into a sardonic smile at the question. "I'm going to chase after Lotor."

Silence fell over everyone, competing heavily with the shock. Hunk was the first one to make a move, quickly closing the gap between him and Lance, he pulled the other Paladin into a death grip of a hug, causing Lance to cough for air. The Yellow Paladin relented slightly. "I know you loved him, dude." Hunk whispered softly, releasing his hold on Lance.

The smile on Lance's lips seemed to grow wider. "I still love him. That's why I have to do this." Pulling away from Hunk, Lance held out a recording device that he'd been gripping in his hand. "I want you to take this. I-I don't really know how long I'll be out there, but if you guys make it back to Earth—when you make it back to Earth. I want you to give this to my mom. She's going to cry...can you be there for her Hunk?"

Tears shimmered in Hunk's eyes as he nodded. Taking a deep breath, Lance's eyes swiveled around the group he'd come to view as a family. His throat felt tight and constricted as he realized he was saying goodbye to them. He took another deep breath as he made his way over to Coran. The older Altean's lips were pulled back into a deep frown as he reached out and gripped Lance's shoulder. "I told Lotor, I'd poison his food and shoot his corpse out into space if he hurt you, but instead we were the ones to hurt you."

With a small laugh, Lance shook his head. "Don't beat yourself up, you were looking out for me and I'm grateful for it. Besides Lotor told me he was quite happy when he was threatened by you."

Coran let his hand drop from Lance's shoulder, a glimmer of mirth burning in his eyes despite the sad smile fixed on his lips.

Pidge was next. The smaller Paladin pouted as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I feel bad. I turned on Lotor quickly...we all did, but we didn't take the time to think about how you or he were feeling."

"It's okay, you little runt." She smiled at that, uncrossing her arms as she wrapped them around his waist, squeezing him tightly as she breathed into his armor that she would miss him.

Lance made his way over to Keith. The half-Galra's lips were pursed into a deep set frown. "I don't even know where to begin with this apology," he began, "I've been a shitty friend."

With a shake of his head, Lance pulled Keith into an embrace. "You're not a shitty friend." He breathed out, his breath rustling locks of Keith's hair.

Keith raised his arms at Lance's side as if he was unsure of what to do with them, but tilted his head so that his face was buried in Lance's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around the Paladin.

Their hug was brief as Lance unwound his arms from around Keith, he turned toward Allura whose lips were quivering from a mixture of guilt and sadness. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as Lance wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"I don't even deserve to speak to you or have you hug me." She mumbled into the material of his armor.

"You need to stop beating yourself up. After all, someone once told me that being a leader meant making mistakes, but being a great one meant learning from them and growing."

He let her go, spinning on his heels to face Shiro. The oldest Paladin's eyes briefly widened in surprise when Lance launched himself at him, wrapping him up in a hug. With his left hand, he patted Lance's back roughly. He bent down slightly so that only his words were able to be comprehended by Lance's ear. "Chase after Lotor," Shiro whispered. "Keep chasing after him until you find him and never stop. Trust me," he continued. "If you don't chase after someone. You'll regret it forever. I didn't chase after my boyfriend and I regretted it for a long time."

Pulling back sharply, Lance's eyes were blown out from surprise. "Shiro you're—"

Shiro nodded at the unsaid question. "Yep."

Laughter from Lance's lips spilled out into the air, tears of relief spilled down his cheek as a shout had everyone turning their head sharply in the direction it came from. "Hey! Are you just going to leave without saying goodbye to me?"

Matt waved his hand furiously as he rushed over to the group from the section of the empty plateau where he'd parked his ship. Matt tackled Lance, nearly sending the both of them crashing to their feet as Matt wound his arms loosely around Lance's neck. "I heard what happened from Pidge." Matt's expression was twisted in a variety of emotions as he pulled back and tightly squeezed Lance's shoulder. Sympathy and empathy burned brightly in his eyes. "Take care of yourself out there, Lance."

"I will."

With his goodbyes said, everyone moved swiftly to relieve Lance of his things, transferring Kattlnecker and Lance's possessions among the other Lions and then...Red was sailing through the air. Growing smaller until he was no more than a red dot that disappeared amongst the swirling clouds of the atmosphere. Shiro watched Red disappear until the only thing that remained of Lance was the heavy sadness and bittersweet goodbyes that lingered around them like a heavy miasma. With a heavy sigh, Shiro ordered for everyone to pack up and prepare to head out.

"Allura," Shiro called out, causing the princess to stop in her tracks and turn toward him. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," She nodded her head in affirmation, before fixing her gaze on Coran and Romelle. She told them to board Blue without her as she and Shiro walked some ways away from the Lions until they were near the edge of the crowded market. "What is that you wanted to talk about Shiro?"

Shaking his head, Shiro seemed as uncertain of his own words as when he'd heard them come from Lance himself. "It was something Lance said when he was catching me up and everything that had happened before I—before my clone attacked everyone. He said something didn't feel right about Romelle's story." Shiro let loose all the theories Lance had confided in him before he'd left. How it'd seemed strange that Romelle had been found washing clothes in her only source of freshwater. How Keith and Krolia didn't make mention of finding any other Altean beside her. How it seemed suspicious that Romelle made mentioned that she nor other Alteans had been able to fly Altean tech for generations but her brother could during his escape. How he'd built her a communicator despite both of them knowing that Lotor was keeping the colonies separate with no forms of communication between them.

"Not to mention the fact that Lotor had hidden the colony beyond the quantum abyss, but she was found in it? I don't know Allura." Shiro's brows pinched together, his mouth deepening into a frown. "I just feel there's more going on to this story that we don't know about. Lotor was so quick to take the blame for everything, but what if...what if we were wrong and there's more to this story going on that we're not aware of. That Romelle isn't telling us about?"

The back of his neck prickled, the hairs on it rising as the all too familiar sensation of being watched crawled up his skin. Lifting both of their heads at the same time, Shiro and Allura stared as in the distance Romelle stood still on the plank that lead into Blue's mouth. She was still as a statue, unabashed at being caught staring at them.

Slowly, she turned away from them and disappeared into the confines of Blue's mouth.

* * *

Eyes carefully studying the map of the quadrant he was in, Lance pursed his lips as he considered the array of plans he'd been stewing over for the past few days. He was idly floating through space, no clear destination on his mind. The idea of going back to the rift where Daibaazal once was crossed his mind. The only problem would be finding a way to open it. He wasn't even sure if going through that rift would lead him to the same place where Lotor was currently floating through.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp chime of bells, causing him to look up at a floating notification for communication. His eyes scanned the coordinates, they were nowhere near any member of the Coalition, much less he didn't even recognize it. He was hesitant to accept it, but with some reluctance, he did anyway.

Eyes widening in surprise, he blinked rapidly as if doing so would help to convince him that who he was seeing wasn't a mere illusion.

"Wow!" Ezor gasped as she pushed her face close to the camera. "How is your skin so clear even on camera?"

"Ezor." Acxa chastised the half-Galra, who simply pouted as she pulled her head back.

He was surprised to see all three of them—Ezor glared at him, her mouth fixed into a grimace as if he was some unpleasant bug she had to squash.

"What do you guys want?" He questioned, a little intrigued by their call. But despite the very limited history they had together he didn't fully trust them as he did Lotor.

The next words that Acxa spoke had hope burning brightly in his chest. A cosmic star that was collapsing in on itself and bursting out with a spark of energy that was enough to affect everything around it. "We have a way of entering the rift...we have a way to free Lotor."


	19. Suspicion

**A/N** : **This series is actually complete on A03, but I suck at crossposting, so I'll update this with the rest of the chapters. One chapter per day until we hit 22. Also, trigger warning, but this chapter has depictions of child abuse.**

* * *

Keeping his eyes trained on the planet in the distance, he raised his brow as his eyes flickered down to the scanner. There were no enemy signals appearing on the screen. He was deep in the heart of one of the quadrants controlled by the empire; he'd passed plenty of ships on his way here with his breath caught in his throat as he wondered if they had been loyal to Lotor or to the other factions of Galra that hungrily eyed the throne. Thankfully his skirmishes and run-ins had been far and few between. The few occasions he'd had to fight had been won by the skin of his teeth and all but made him miss having his friends by his side.

From the limited information he knew about the planet, it was some trading waystation that had made its fortune as a pleasure planet for the rich and the elite. The planet was going to be crawling with all sorts of people and for Lance, that meant an increased number of people who would be salivating at their mouths to either capture a Paladin of Voltron for their own hedonistic desires or someone else's.

Either way, he knew he needed to be careful.

Red wasn't able to cloak himself like Green. Nor did he have the stealth skills that Keith possessed or the ability to blend in with his surroundings that Allura and Coran could do if they really needed to. He was by himself and only had his Bayard and the hand to hand combat training that Lotor had taught him.

He was on his own.

His grip tightened around the controls in his hands. As he navigated Red toward the turquoise colored planet. Descending down into the planet below, his eyes raked over miles and miles of tightly packed buildings that made up a glittering, brightly lit city. Below, the city sparkled with a neon glow with multiple signs advertising adult entertainment and liquor. Lance could already see people pointing up toward Red, no doubt intrigued by the presence of a Paladin on the sordid planet. Looking for a large swath of land to park, Lance flew over the city until he found what seemed like a park. There were large, man-made pond in the middle, surrounded by shrubbery and round trees.

Pulling up the secondary coordinates that he received from Acxa, Lance made his way out of the artificial park and walked through the city. Ignoring the pointed stared and whispers that followed him as he walked through main streets, before making sharp turns that led him down dark and crumbling alleyways. He made a right into an alleyway that was lit up by fading neon signs that flickered on faded on the last legs of their life. A larger rat shaped creature that was far bigger than the average sized dog on Earth squeaked as it scuttled between a pair of garbage cans. Lance wrinkled his nose at it as he spotted the one person he had come all this way to see.

Standing beneath a flickering blue neon sign, featuring a tall three-legged blue woman was Acxa. The flickering neon light showed the woman lifting up the side of her dress one moment and kicking her one of her legs out suggestively. Acxa's entire body was awash with a blue glow that faded and brightened from the slowly dying sign above her head. All Lance could do was arch a single brow in amusement as he eyeballed the sign and then settled his vision on the Galra's form.

Her ultramarine colored eyes fixed themselves upon him. An air of seriousness wrapped around her like the tight hold of a python. "What you learn here today, you can tell no one about." There was an underlying threat beneath her words. A threat that if Lance broke his promise, he'd wake up to a knife slicing through his carotid artery.

"I understand." He finally relented after some time. With a huff, she turned her back to him, walking a little way up the alley, she stopped in front of a red door. It was stained with dirt and there were parts of it that were fading and strips of paint that were peeling off of the door, exposing the stained wood beneath it. Lifting her fist to the door, she rapped her knuckles against it in a trio of knocks.

There was a moment of silence that passed from the last knock as the two of them waited outside the door. It swung open, revealing a well-lit bar with a plethora of alien species milling about, socializing, and drinking. Zethrid was nearby the door as Acxa and Lance walked in, causing Lance to realize that she must have been the one guarding the door. The bulkier half-Galra was leaning against a wall, her arms crossed in front of her chest, she glanced in Lance's general direction, with a look of annoyance upon her face. Just as quickly as she glanced at him, however, she let her gaze swing back to stare aimlessly in front of her. Lance spied Ezor sitting at the bar, she wiggled her fingers at him in greeting which he returned with a confused half-smile.

The door behind Lance swung shut, causing him to jump slightly as his nerves started to eat away at the edges of his confidence. Tipping her head back slightly, Acxa addressed the room before her, with a sense of command that was benefiting the years she spent as one of Lotor's commanders. "Everyone it's okay. I brought a Paladin of Voltron."

Like a dream, Lance watched the entire room shift as all of the aliens transformed, their limbs lengthening and shortening; features shifting until Lance was staring at a room full of Alteans of all shades of skin tones. He was rooted to where he stood, his heart paused in the midst of his chest as soft, yet shaky words slipped past his lips. "Are these Alteans?"

A slim Altean rose from his seat. Seated toward the back of the bar he had teal colored hair, the long strands reaching down to his shoulders; his bangs were tied back with a bandana. His eyes were made up of a lighter shade of forest green with lavender pupils. With skin that was the color of tilled soil, the sickle-shaped markings beneath his eyes were chartreuse colored, but there was a trio of red tiger-like stripes that marred each of his cheeks. He traversed across the length of the bar to stand before Lance, holding out his hand he waited for the Paladin to shake it. Lance stared at it with some hesitation, before lifting his own hand to grasp the Altean's own, giving it a hearty shake.

"I'm Lance, the Red Paladin of Voltron." He introduced himself to the bar full of Alteans. His words were met by a wave of confusion that he inferred from the furrowed brows of the Altean shaking his hand.

The corner of the Altean's lips twitched into a confused, lopsided smile as he pulled his hand away from Lance's own. "But, you're wearing blue armor?"

Motioning to himself, Lance shrugged his shoulders in a way that suggested his explanation behind it was very long. "It's complicated."

Still not quite understanding, the man nodded with some reluctance and introduced himself. "I'm Taylan. Acxa has already told us so much about Voltron, especially you." Lance stared at Acxa wondering exactly what she'd told Taylan and the other Alteans. He felt his cheeks warming up from uncertainty as the Altean continued talking. "All of us are from the new colony that Lotor formed nearly a thousand years ago. My parents were one of the first people to be selected to go to the new colony and I grew worried when we hadn't had any contact from Lotor for some time." Taylan's eyes focused on Acxa. "So we sent some of our own people out on a mission to discover any information they could, despite our need for secrecy and we ended up stumbling upon Acxa who was looking for the same. Yet she managed to fill us in on some things that we hadn't known about."

Lance watched her shoulder's sag, an uncomfortable air of sadness weighed down upon her.

"I thought the new colony didn't exist." His statement came out more like a question, which caused a concerned look to flicker between Taylan and Acxa.

"The new colony has existed for centuries." He answered, his mouth fixed into a thin line as he glanced uncertainly at Lance as if he was questioning whether this young man that Acxa had brought before him was really even a Paladin of Voltron. "It's existed since its creation as a means of encouraging genetic diversity between the two colonies. Besides that, the Altean's who were selected to join the new colony all had a higher affinity for quintessence than the others. So Lotor was training us with the hopes that our people would be able to tap into our quintessence and perform feats that were lost with the destruction of Altea. Not only to bring back and recover knowledge that was once lost to our people, but to also be able to revolutionize it."

Taylan's explanation brought a longing smile upon Lance's face as he wryly thought about how it very much sounded like something Lotor would do.

"Some of our people were also meant to take on the role of a specialized military force so that we could protect ourselves until one-day Lotor would terraform a planet that would replace Altea. Every Altean who was selected to join the new colony knew of their mission and how important it was to keep a sense of secrecy when all contact between the colonies was severed 150 years ago when some Altean's from the new colony went missing on a recognizance mission. Lotor had been afraid that we'd been compromised somehow."

Lance's lips stretched out into a thin line as his mouth soured as the image of Romelle's face popped into his mind. "I can't believe Romelle never mentioned any of this."

A cold sense of dread washed over Lance's skin as he watched Taylan and a bubblegum pink-haired Altean woman trade confused, yet suspicious looks with one another. "Who's Romelle?" Taylan asked, causing the sour taste that coated Lance's tongue to deepen. Dark spots danced in the edges of his vision as alarm prickled on the surface of his skin.

"What?" The alarm was apparent in his voice. "What do you mean? She was an Altean on the old colony. My friends found her inside of the quantum abyss."

The pink-haired Altean shook her head. "The old colony was never _in_ the quantum abyss. It was on the edge of it. I was one of the last few people from the old colony who were selected to go to the new colony and I never knew anyone by the name of Romelle."

Lance's eyes widened, his pulse quickening as he drew in a series of agitated breaths. Acxa, sensing something was wrong, tensed up, causing Ezor and Zethrid to tense as well. "Lance?" Acxa questioned, suspicion threaded throughout her voice.

He turned toward her. His eyes darkened by a mixture of confusion and fear. "We have a problem."

Acxa's hand shot out, gripping Lance tightly by his shoulder, she guided him away from Taylan and the other Altean's. With a quick, sharp movement of her head, she motioned for Ezor and Zethrid to follow her. She lead them toward a backroom that was separated from the main area of the bar. A thick, navy blue curtain separated the two spaces; sharply, Acxa drew the curtain back and ushered them into the dimly lit space. As she stepped inside, she drew the curtain shut and shot Lance a withering look that was meant to melt him into a pile of atoms. "Explain yourself." Her words came out with a fierce grit to them.

Pacing in the short space, a volley of words ripped themselves from the hollow of Lance's throat as he set about explaining everything Romelle had said the evening she'd boarded the ship accusing Lotor of the heinous crimes she said he did. He relayed to them what Romelle had revealed to the Paladins about the colony, both during her accusations and after when Allura and Coran had sought to question her about the colony that housed much of their people.

Exhaling a long breath, Acxa's lips were twisted into a deep set frown. "What could Romelle possibly gain from lying? None of this makes any sense. It just doesn't."

Lance gave a sharp shake of his head. None of this made sense to him, there was too much going on that he felt he didn't have an answer to. That he couldn't find an answer for. "I don't know," he finally said, feeling his heartbeat inside of his throat. "All I do know is that Romelle framed Lotor for a reason; whoever was behind her brother's death is behind is also behind harvesting quintessence from the Alteans. But in order to figure out what's truly going on, we need to find Lotor and talk to him." Stopping in mid-pace, he swiveled his head in Acxa's direction. "You said you had a way to get to him?"

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she nodded. "It's not so much a way of getting him out, but a way to get to him."

Brows furrowing in confusion, Lance could feel the edges of his lips tugging downward as his hope began to dim inside of him. "What do you mean?"

With a single passing glance at his face, Acxa turned her back toward him, lightly calling over her shoulder. "It's better if Taylan explains it."

Ripping the curtain aside, she lead them back out into the main area of the bar where Taylan and the other Alteans were waiting expectantly. The Altean male's gaze darted between Lance and the Galra. "We'll do it," Acxa spoke up. "But it would be beneficial if you brought the Paladin up to speed."

Taylan nodded an excited grin stretching across his face, an infectious hopeful energy seemed to surround him. Sticking his hand into the pocket of his pants, he rummaged around, before producing a slim, circular, metal disk. It was flat, but in the middle had a donut hole cutout. The interior of which was ringed by a green, glimmering material that reminded Lance of an emerald gem. Walking towards a circular table, Taylan placed the metal object down as the table's occupants scooted back their chairs giving Lance and the Galra an opportunity to crowd around the table. With his index finger, Taylan dragged his finger around the length of the disk and pulled away as a large holographic projection spread around the room.

Lance blinked as he found a random planet floating in his face. He was impressed as he glanced around the room to see an entire planetary system projected throughout the room. Random stars and planets floating unsuspended in the air. He'd seen Allura do this once, so seeing this on a much more larger scale and experiencing it in person intrigued him.

"Okay." Taylan began as he lifted his hand and swiped at the air causing the projection to shimmer slightly as it faded away and was replaced with a new projection of the system the Paladins had fought Lotor in. "So this plan's a little tricky, mostly because it's never been truly done before." He pointed to a singular, empty pocket of space. "We have ships that can take us here. The problem is how to open the rift." He glanced at Lance who nodded in affirmation. "Here comes the experimental part. I'll take a team of Altean's with me, those who have an especially higher affinity for tapping into their quintessence. With them, we'll attempt to channel their energies into opening a small rift big enough for you and your Lion to go through." He pointed a finger at Lance. "But we'll only have a small window of time to do so as my people won't be able to keep that rift open forever."

Taking in a deep breath, Lance ran the plan over in his mind a million times before asking, "Are you sure this plan will even work?"

There was a shrug of Taylan's shoulders as he seemed to pause. A single eyebrow rose upon his face as he considered Lance's question contemplatively. "There's no guarantee it will, but there's no harm in trying."

* * *

Lance was breathing heavily as he stared at the empty expanse of space from inside of Red's cockpit. Beside him was a sleek cream-colored ship, strips of an aquamarine-blue decorating its exterior. Taylan's voice crackled in his ear. "Are you ready, Lance?"

Letting his eyes slip shut, he let out a deep breath that forced all the tension out of his body. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Taking that as a signal to proceed, Lance waited; the stillness of space felt silent as he stared at the empty expanse of it all. His breath was caught in his throat as he squinted his eyes at a tiny little crack that appeared in the horizon. It was the tiniest of spider cracks that appeared in the dark abyss, a glowing white crack that burned and sizzled as it began to widen. Goosebumps rose along Lance's arm as Red seemed to hum all around him as he sensed Altean magic in the air. Every single particle in Lance's body seemed to hum as he watched with fascination as the rift spread and widened until it was large enough that Red could fit through. "Alright, this is where you come into play, Lance." There was a sense of elation that griped Taylan's words. "We just need you to steer your Lion into the rift and locate Lotor. At most, we can give you roughly two minutes, but beyond that well…" He trailed off, but Lance understood the unspoken words nonetheless.

He had two minutes to find Lotor. If he didn't they'd both be spending an eternity trapped inside of an endless void with no way out.

"Okay," he muttered to himself as he inched the thrusters forward, Red flew past the ship and toward the rift until he was enveloped in a field of bright, white light. "I'm in," Lance called out into the empty expanse of his surrounding.

"Good, just hurry up and find Lotor," Acxa spoke up, there was a sense of nervousness that clung to her words.

"Don't worry, I will." He responded in an attempt to alleviate some of her nerves. His eyes darted around the empty space, uncertain where to go or even where to look. It was a blank, unpainted canvas and he was holding the brush in his hand. Tubes of paint lying around him, waiting for him to pick up and smear onto a palette, but he didn't know what color to pick up first. Whether to mix them all together and create a new color that he couldn't yet see. "I just need to pick up the brush." He mumbled to himself, his eyes slipping shut. "I just need to pick up the brush."

So he did.

He bent down and pressed his index and thumb finger against the smooth wood, grasping it between his fingers as he reached out and grabbed a tube of paint with his empty hand. Flicking off the cap with his thumb, he pressed the tube against the blank canvass before him and squeezed the tube, smearing a glob of paint onto the canvas. He pressed the tip of the brush into it and dragged it. His eyes snapped open as he drew in a single breath as he forced Red to travel deeper into the rift. His eyes scanning left and right as he searched for the Sincline beast that the Paladins had fought nearly a lifetime ago.

"Lance, have you found him yet?" The plea in Acxa's voice rumbled worriedly in his ears.

"Not yet," He mumbled as he forced Red to go deeper and deeper into the rift. His eyes widened when to his right, he saw a tiny black speck. "Wait," he whispered to himself, his eyes narrowing as he made a sharp turn and rushed off toward it.

"Well, hurry up." Acxa pleaded, the worry in her voice cutting through Lance's emotions like a hot knife. "There isn't much time left."

Coming close to the Sincline beast, his eyes raked over the robotic monstrosity. It was floating aimlessly through the void, still, and unmoving as if there was no life inside of it. His heart pounded wildly in his throat, his every breath felt strangled as he called out to the ship. "Lotor?" He was met by silence.

"Lance." Taylan's voice sliced through the cold flow of emotions swirling in his veins. "You only have a minute left at best. Please hurry."

Scrambling out of his seat, Lance raced out of the cockpit. Red's mouth lowered as Lance jumped up into the air, using his thrusters to propel him toward the Sincline. His fingers scrambled for purchase on the smooth exterior of the robotic beast, his fingers splayed against the window of the cockpit. His eyes focused upon Lotor's unconscious form. His face was smooth, his brows unwrinkled from any stress or worry. If Lance didn't know better he would argue that Lotor looked peaceful; that this all was peaceful. It felt like the rift was humming around him, whispering in his ear to stay and rest.

 _Aren't you tired?_ It seemed to say. _Stay. Sleep._ Another voice whispered to him. _You're so very tired, just stay and you can rest forever._ His whole body felt sluggish, a mysterious weight pressing down upon him that made him want to lift up the shield to the cockpit and crawl in beside Lotor. _Stay here and no one will ever hurt you. Stay here and you won't ever have another nightmare again. You won't wake up with fear clogging your throat or your body covered in a film of cold sweat. He wanted the two of them to rest beside one another together. Forever._

He slipped his fingers underneath the cockpit glass, forcing it upwards so that he could crawl into it. He curled up beside Lotor, pressing his face into the Galra's neck as all the tension in his body seemed to melt away. His eyes slipping shut as he gave in to the desire to sleep…

"Lance!" His eyes snapped awake as Acxa's voice sliced through his brain. Her shrill yell rattling around in the expanse of his skull. "What are you doing!? Have you found Lotor yet!? You only have half a minute to extract him and get out."

What was he supposed to be doing? His brain felt like there was fog obscuring it. He stared at Lotor's face and it felt like someone was quickly piecing together the pieces of a puzzle that someone had upturned onto a table. "Shit." Lance hissed out as he grabbed one of Lotor's arms, pulling him upright into a sitting position. He pulled Lotor closer to him, wrapping his arm around his neck as he used his other arm to wrap around Lotor's waist and gripped tightly. His entire mouth felt dry with worry as activated his thrusters and floated the two of them out of the cockpit and into Red's mouth.

He knew they didn't have much time left.

Aboard the Altean ship, Acxa stared worriedly out at the rift from the large window that stretched across the walls of the bridge. Her entire body was shaking with worry as her eyes darted to the group of Altean's clustered together that were barely keeping the rift open. Their bodies were shaking from weariness; all of them appearing on the verge of collapsing at any second as they struggled to keep the large crack in space open enough that Lance and Lotor could escape.

Ezor and Zethrid were behind her. Worry rolling off both of them like waves as they kept their eyes trained on the rift. Ezor's hand was pressed against Zethrid's arm comfortingly as the large half-Galra reached out to cover the slimmer one's hand with her own.

Worry was eating its way at Acxa as she continued to stare into the distance. "Acxa." She turned her head to see Taylan standing beside her. "I don't think my people can hold this rift open for a second longer."

"No!" Acxa roared, she reached out and grasped his collar between her hands, bunching the fabric up in her fists. Taylan didn't even flinch; he didn't react. Instead, he reached up and laid his hands over Acxa's fists.

"I'm sorry." Were the only two words he said as he pushed her fists off of the collar of his clothing and turned away from her.

"Just please." Acxa pleaded, there were tears spilling from her eyes. Hot, thick tears that rolled down her cheeks and burned against the surface of her skin. "You have to keep it open long enough for them to get out."

"I can't do that." Sympathy and pity burned in Taylan's eyes as he turned his back to her and ordered the other Altean's to end the magic that was sustaining the rift. She felt like she was watching the entire universe die as the molecules in the very air ceased humming and the Altean's crumpled to their knees. Outside the rift fizzled shut, growing smaller and smaller until the smooth expanse of space was the only thing there. A strangled cry wrenched the air that made her wonder who was making the sound, only for her to realize that it was coming from her own throat. The noise sounded foreign to her ears as her knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor, her neck craning so that her chin fell against her chest as she cried for the first time in a long while.

Ezor and Zethrid stared at her sympathetically when a glint in the distance caught Ezor's eyes. "Wait," the word fell from her lips in a whisper. "Look!" She pointed, her finger aimed at where the rift had once been.

Everyone glanced up to see the crack reforming and widening in the distance until it spat out the Red Lion that tumbled and twirled through space as the rift winked out of existence. Red finally stabilized itself as silence crept around the interior of the ship. "What? No fanfare for my return?" Came Lance's triumphant tone coursing through the ship. A joyous cry of triumph rose up from the Altean's as Lance informed them of his intentions of boarding the ship.

With bated breath, everyone waited until the doors to the bridge slid apart to reveal Lance half carrying and half dragging Lotor's limp body until the both of them were crumbling onto the bridge as Lotor's weight proved too much for the Paladin to bear.

"Is he okay?" Ezor shouted as everyone ran over to where Lance was, all of them watching as the Paladin reached out to roll Lotor over onto his back and placed the Galra's head into his lap so that his white locks were spilling across the Paladin's thighs.

"I don't know." There was an uncertainty in Lance's voice as his eyes flickered from Lotor's face up to Ezor and the crowd that surrounded him before settling back onto Lotor's features. "He wasn't responsive when I was in the rift and when I got him aboard Red." His lips flattened out into a thin line of worry as he pressed a gloved hand against Lotor's cool cheek. "Please wake up." He whispered, his heart pounding so loud inside of his chest that he wondered if anyone else could hear it.

It was then that a cough racked Lotor's body, like he'd been underwater for a long time and was finally coughing salty, sea water out from his lungs. The cough seemed to subside after awhile as Lotor's eyes quivered. His eyelids finally pulling apart until he stared up at Lance with bewilderment shining dimly in his eyes. A gentle smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Lance?"

A warm, infectious laugh pulled itself from Lance's lungs out of a sense of relief as tears spilled freely from his eyes. Around him Ezor, Zethrid, and Acxa had tears spilling down their cheeks, as well as Lance, folded his body in half to press soft kisses against Lotor's forehead, whispering to him over and over like a simple mantra that he was there. That he was there and Lotor was safe and that he would never leave him behind again.

* * *

If someone were to ask him what his first positive memory of his parents was, he would never have an appropriate answer to respond with. Was it when his father had told him he wasn't "entirely worthless" and he had beamed with a sense of elation as Dayak had reported to Zarkon the small feat that his son had accomplished of being the winner of a small melee they held every year that pitted Galra children against one another as a means of proving their strength and wit? Or would it have been the deluded memory of having felt elated when Dayak had told him that Zarkon would be gracing them with his presence during the first day he'd been training with an actual sword. Only to watch as his father had turned in disgust with a sneer upon his face when the robotic enemy that he had trained against had managed to disarm him?

His view of what a parent's love should have been….shouldn't have been like had been warped since the very moment of his birth.

The very moment he'd been born into the world, he'd experienced cruelty at its finest. Lotor never felt the warm arms of his mother wrapped around his tiny body or even his father's gentle touch, but he'd felt the cold arms of abandonment the first few hours of his feeble life. Swaddled up in a blanket as he cried his eyes out, his tiny hands balled up into little fists as he wailed for the comfort of his mother or father only to be swept up into the arms of a wetnurse that held little affection for him.

Even when he reached the early stages of his childhood, he questioned why his own relationship with his father was night and day compared to the relationship that he'd seen children his age share with their own parents.

It'd been a day when Dayak had finished their history lessons early. His governess wearing a pleased smirk upon her wrinkled and wizened face when Lotor had asked her a question. "Why does my father not come to see me?"

Dayak had turned toward him with a haughty sneer that could have made the warmest of temperatures wither to a freezing state. "The blood emperor is far too busy conquering planets to play to the whims of a child!" She had called out in a shrill tone.

"But—" the protest had been formed upon his tongue only for Dayak's crop to come down harshly upon his bare knuckles. A wince flashed across his face as he yanked his tiny, childlike hand away from the table.

"No buts!" Dayak had growled out, harsher than any general he'd seen before. He knew that Dayak held no love for him, her only devotion was to the empire and to her duty to raise the young prince in a fashion that was benefiting of someone of his lineage. From the moment he'd first been able to say a single word and form his own coherent thoughts she had drilled it into his brain that she was not to be viewed as a mother figure of any sorts. She'd gripped the end of her crop with her other hand, bending the leather instrument slightly as she began to pace in front of him. "Blood emperor Zarkon is overseeing the very success of our empire! He has no time to entertain the small machinations of a mere child." She pointed the crop into his face. "If you have the ability to ask questions then you have the ability to do better when I test you upon the knowledge of our noble and illustrious history." Her eyes narrowed at him. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am." He grumbled, a slight pout upon his lips as Dayak huffed annoyedly at him and turned upon her heels to stalk away from him.

Even during the rare occasions that he was able to see his father, their reaction to one another was nothing like a father and his child should have been. It'd been one evening when he was small—a rare occasion when Zarkon had allowed Lotor to dine with him and other important figures among the empire. Lotor had been beaming with pride as he sipped upon his soup, only to glance up at his father with curiosity burning in his eyes. "Father, may I have permission to ask a question?"

Zarkon hadn't even bothered to spare a look in his direction before waving dismissively at him. "You may."

"What was my mother like?"

An uncomfortable silence had swept over the room as if someone had just died that very second. Lotor hadn't understood what had just happened, only to jump in shock when Zarkon's fist had come down upon the dining table, splitting the granite steel in half causing everything that had been upon it to slide down into the middle and leak onto the floor. That had been his first taste of fear that very day as he glanced up, his entire body wracked with a terrible shake only to see the disdain and hatred burning in his father's eyes when he stared at him.

Dayak had moved swiftly, her hand gripping Lotor's hair tightly as she forced his head downward into an apologetic state. "Forgive the boy, Lord Zarkon! It was merely a mistake."

"A mistake that will be corrected with punishment?" It was hardly a question out of Zarkon's mouth, not the way it had left his lips with a cold sense of detachment.

"Yes," The governess had breathed out quickly. "I will see to it myself."

It was that night that Lotor had been forced to stand until his legs had shaken, his limbs heavy with weariness as the large, red welts upon his upper back and the back of his thighs no longer stung, but only itched with an uncomfortableness that made him want to scratch them. However, the red handprint upon his face stung even more as hot tears rolled down his cheek.

"A prince does not cry!" Dayak's cry came out as the tip of her crop swung down to connect with Lotor's upper back, leaving a new welt that had the young prince cry out. The crop was pulled back, only to swing forward once more and connect with his flesh. "Nor does he embarrass himself before the court." The crop connected with his flesh again. "Nor. Does. He. Embarrass. His. Emperor." With each punctuation of her words, the crop connected with his skin until his back had more fresh, reddened welts than before.

The sharp, heels of Dayak's boots connected with the floor. _Click-clack,_ the sound reverberated in his ears until his governess was standing before him. She reached out and gently cupped his chin in her gloved hand, tipping his head back slightly so that his eyes were staring directly at her face. "Do you know why I do this to you?" He shook his head. "Because you must learn discipline and focus so you never experience this pain again." She let his chin drop from her fingers as she walked back around him. The crop whistling as it arched through the air and came down upon his skin with a torrent of blows.

With each blow, the memory of that encounter and exchange had been beaten into him as he learned the first cruel lesson of his youth.

He would learn to keep his questions and thoughts to himself.

Much of his youth was spent alone as children his own age were...rightfully cautious of him. Especially when he had the opportunity to interact with them, though it was few and in-between as Dayak kept him preoccupied with the lessons that she had planned. He was an emperor's child, whether he liked that fact or not. They would have to walk on eggshells around him or else there would be repercussions for either them or their parents to face. Children would tend to flee from him, despite his smaller stature and slimmer build when they saw him, but those that didn't think they were impervious to whatever repercussions they may face.

One such time, Lotor had been allowed to go to one of the empire's colonies, the day Zarkon was there to oversee that harvesting of the planets quintessence was going smoothly. He'd snuck away from Dayak's supervision to explore the slightly large village only to encounter a group of local children playing with a moss covered ball.

"Hey, can I play?" Lotor had asked the group of children—all orange blobbed shape aliens with three eyes and four limbs. The slightly larger child of the group had simply stared at their friends before pushing Lotor away with one of their hands.

He had stumbled backward a few feet as the children had laughed and called him a weakling among a variety of colorful names. His cheeks had burned from embarrassment, his ears darkening with a flush when they'd called him a blood traitor. Letting out a childish roar, he'd rushed toward the leader of the children, his claws already extended as he clawed at the child's skin, leaving angry red trails that wept blood. The child screamed, pushing Lotor down to the ground with their much larger build as they began to punch at his face. The beating didn't last very long as a tall shadow loomed over all of them that had the children scrambling away.

Through already blackening and swelling eyes, Lotor peered up to see Zarkon standing above him. A look of disdain marring his face as he uttered, "Pathetic. Not even a hint of Galra blood runs through your veins. It would have been better if you died within your mother's womb." with a sneer upon his lips and turned so sharply that his cape fluttered behind him, leaving Lotor to lie in the dirt as blood dripped from a broken nose.

His tiny little hands had curled into his fists as he breathed deeply, his entire body shaking as tears prickled in the corners of his eyes.

There were many aspects of his childhood that seemed commonplace to him that had taken years for him to unlearn where anything but. When he would turn corners he'd find Haggar there, the witch peering down at him from the darkness of her hood. The few friends he'd managed to make had been nothing more than pawns clutched tightly within her fingers. One such childhood friend had been named Kreia, a young Galran woman whose father had been a mere soldier. But he'd met her during one of Zarkon's longer stays upon a colony. She was slim and pretty in Lotor's opinion, with a personality that would later remind him of Ezor's own.

He'd been sitting on a fountain, a book about Altea that he found beneath a pile of rubble splayed across his lap. The slightly burnt pages crinkled beneath his fingers as he gingerly flipped through the pages. A shadow had loomed over him, causing him to turn his head and let out an exclamation of shock as her brows slightly rose in amusement.

"What are you doing here?" She'd questioned, it was rare for children her own age to be on the colony. Zarkon had only just implemented changes in which Galra soldiers could begin forming their own living arrangements on the planet. Lotor had lifted his head where in the distance there were workers shouting out commands to one another as they set about assembling a home that in a week's time would house a Galra family within its walls.

He'd sniffed haughtily, tilting his head back as he jutted his chin out proudly. "I'm accompanying my father to oversee the colony." His chest burned with pride at those words as the young Galra girl's yellow eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"How can you do that when you're just a kid?"

The tips of his ears burned, his cheeks flushing a shade of lavender as his lips quivered into a pout. "I can! Don't you know who I am anyway?"

Her lips flattened out into a line as she pressed a single index finger against her lips. An inquisitive look spread across her face. "I do," she hummed, "but I don't think you know who I am." Pulling her index finger away from her lip, she thrust an open hand out toward him, a giant, toothy grin splitting across her face. "I'm Kreia."

It didn't take long for them to become fast friends after that. They'd spent most of their days exploring the colony; making up their own adventures where Lotor was emperor and Kreia was his closest advisor in his court.

They became such fast and close friends through his youth that to him Kreia felt like a light amongst the darkness. A source of light that bloomed in the distance and gave him home to continue trudging forward despite the heavy desire to just succumb to it all. They'd grown close with Kreia revealing her own secrets to him that she had never told anyone before. She told him of how her own mother was sickly all the time and her father would blame her for it, because after she was born her mother came down ill with an illness that the doctors couldn't quite cure.

"It's why I spend so much time outside." She told him, reclining back so that she was lying in the lush grass beneath them. The three suns above her shining brightly and warming her face. "Out here, no one controls you. You're free to be your own person. Imagine your own future." She shrugged her shoulders. "Crap like that."

Her words tumbled loosely in his brain. The weight of them pressing down on his chest. It didn't take too long for him to reveal his own secrets to her. It was a hot night when the heat just seemed to cling to the skin with sweat dripping down the limbs. Even the brisk breeze that rustled the leaves of the trees and shrubbery provided little relief. But he had managed to sneak out from the watchful eyes of Dayak and the servants that directly reported to Haggar and he met Kreia near the fountain where they'd first met. He had the slightly damaged book that he found beneath the rubble tucked beneath his arm. Kreia was sitting on the edge of the fountain, she waved at him when she saw him approaching.

"So, what's this _secret treasure_ of yours that you wanted to show me?" She hopped off the edge of the fountain as Lotor drew closer toward her.

"This book!" He let the book slip into his hand before thrusting it toward her face, she squinted, her brows pinching together as she stared at the faded Altean script.

"It looks like junk." She muttered, pulling back and crossing her arms before her chest.

"It's not junk!" He'd countered defensively, he began to flip through the book pointing to random text and explaining the bits of knowledge that he'd had to practically teach himself. It wasn't like there was a teacher out there in the universe that'd be willing to risk their own lives to teach him a few words in Altean.

He'd glanced up to see Kreia's face was devoid of all emotion. There was no wonder in her eyes, no amusement, or the spark of joy that burned within his own whenever he would open up the book in the dark confines of his room. "I have to go." She had mumbled a little quickly. Something that he'd wished he'd picked up on back then.

"Okay?" He'd been confused, wondering whether he'd done something wrong as he'd watched his only friend in the universe run off.

He should have known back then that no one simply became his friend out of the kindness of their heart. Everyone had their own motivation for getting close to him. Whether it was money, power, or a desire to cause him misery.

He didn't realize something was wrong when Dayak hadn't ended their lesson for the day. Instead, his governess had merely stared at him with a sense of disappointment burning in her oldened eyes. She had clucked her tongue at him disapprovingly as she ushered him out of the room and to where Zarkon held his court. Lotor had suspected nothing. How could he? He was only a mere child who'd had an inkling upon seeing the entirety of Zarkon's court assembled knew that someone was going to be severely punished.

He just hadn't realized it was going to be him until he came to stand before his father's throne. Even on a dais, Zarkon's form loomed menacingly above him, his shadow stretched out and covering Lotor's body like an omnipresent and benevolent god.

As a child, he'd remember shaking before his father's withering glare. His head bowed as he stared intently at his own two feet.

"Do you know why I do this?" Zarkon had questioned as he snapped his fingers and servants filtered into the room carrying armfuls of Lotor's meager possessions that they proceeded to dump onto the floor between Lotor and his father.

"No, father." Lotor had whispered, his entire body shaking like a leaf caught in a strong wind. The corners of his eyes prickled with unshed tears.

"To stamp out the weakness that runs in your veins." Zarkon had sighed wearily as if he was tired of having to dish out this lesson time and time again. "To stamp out the same weakness that your mother bore in her veins, that she gave to you upon your birth. The same weakness that I thought I wiped out when I destroyed Altea with my own two hands!" Raising a fist, Zarkon brought it down sharply on the arm of his throne, sending a large crack racing down the side of it. It made a violent sound that had Lotor jumping sharply at the noise. "Today. I'm going to make sure I stamp out that very weakness in you. Bring the girl forth!"

Lifting his head, Lotor's eyes had widened upon seeing Kreia approaching the throne. There was a sense of abashment that coated her cheeks in a pale lavender blush as she saluted his father.

"Tell me what you told Haggar." Zarkon had growled out in a threatening tone.

Kreia had glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, before speaking up. "He showed me a book when he snuck out. It had Altean script all over it and covered the history of Altea...and our empire before it was destroyed."

A servant carrying the book she so described came rushing into the courtroom, bowed before Zarkon and handed the tattered book to him. Turning the book gently in his hands as if it was a precious relic of their past, a sneer stretched across his face as he tossed the book toward the pile of Lotor's belongings. The book clattered against his things, sliding down the pile as its pages fluttered open before smacking against the floor with a sickening thud that had Lotor's stomach-churning inside of him. "Burn it," his father had ordered with a deafening roar. "Burn all of it."

Silent tears slipped down his face as the servants doused his belongings in a flammable liquid, his entire body shook as he watched a servant toss a match into the air. A strangled cry came from his throat as he watched flames consume his belongings, licking at the material of toys and clothes that he had considered his only possessions in the world. Tears rolled thickly down his cheeks as Zarkon rose from his throne, descending down the dais steps and walking toward his son until he was standing beside his son. Reaching out, he placed a hand upon Lotor's small shoulder and squeezed it. "Son, I do this because I love you. Now—" He trailed off, jerking his head in the direction of a servant who quickly came forward and presented a knife upon a satin pillow with gold thread lining the exterior. The servant held it before Lotor. "Take up the knife, boy."

Doing as he was told, Lotor reached out and grasped the hilt of the knife into his hand. He pulled it away from its satin surface as his father placed his other hand upon his shoulder and spun him around so he was facing…

...Kreia.

The young girl's face seemed to scrunch up in a mixture of shock and confusion, an emotion that had Zarkon's cold and cruel laughter bouncing off the walls. He glanced at his son from the corner of his eyes, a cruel hiss of two words that would haunt Lotor for days after slipped past his lips. "Do it."

Lotor's hands were shaking as he fiercely shook his head. "I won't," was the feeble response that roused within his throat.

With a thwarted sigh, Zarkon tipped his head back, his voice seemingly weary with emotion as he spoke. "The things I do for you." In the blink of an eye, he had wrenched the knife away from Lotor's tiny grasp and set the tip of the blade arching out into the air in a semi-circle. Droplets of blood flew through the air, as Kreia's shocked eyes seemed to react quicker than her hands could. Rivers of blood dripped down her neck as an arterial splash of blood coated a shocked Lotor's face. Her hands flew up to stop the blood that was leaving her body at a rapid rate, but it wasn't enough as she collapsed to the floor before Lotor's feet, her eyes wide open as her mouth flapped open and shut like a dying beast, her body twitching as unintelligible sounds and wet gurgles spewed from her lips with a few droplets of blood. And then everything was silent as Lotor watched the fading light leave her body as it stopped twitching, all of her muscles going slack as her empty eyes continued to stare at him.

His breath refused to come out from his lungs as he stared into what used to be his best friend's lifeless and unseeing eyes. Zarkon motioned for the same servant that had presented Lotor with the knife over to them, watching from the corner of his eyes as the servant quickly rushed over to the both of them. The satin pillow held out like a sacrificial offering unto which Zarkon dropped the blood-soaked knife. Turning, Zarkon gently laid a hand down on his son's shoulder, dropping to his knees so that his face was level with Lotor's own. "This, son, shall be your lesson for today. Never let anyone know your secrets." With that said, Zarkon rose from his knees and left the throne room, leaving behind Lotor to stare at the growing pool of blood that spread across the tiled floor.

When Lotor had grown to be a teen, he'd gone through a rebellious phase just like every other teen did of course. Except his phase had been spending several hours and nights attempting to concoct plans to run the empire in his own unique way after deposing his father and the witch that hung closely to him like a pet.

It almost filled him with glee when his father had allowed him to run his own colony without any supervision. There would be reports of course, but an entire colony to run as how he saw fit to himself.

It'd been a distant planet in the far corner of a quadrant; a small planet with very little promise in terms of quintessence production. But Lotor had overseen the planet and its people. A bunch of humanoid looking, blue-skinned aliens with long polk-dotted appendages that served as their ears. His first visit to the colony had been met with fear of course. Almost every colony had known first hand the terror of what it was like to be under the rule of the Galra; the cruelty and unjustness of it all. So when Lotor had gained control of the planet, he knew he would run it differently compared to the tyrannical grasp that his father had on the thousands of colonies that stretched across the vastness of the empire.

When he had first visited the planet, he had seen the fear in the beady little eyes of the people he was set to oversee. Instead of barking out commands as he assumed them to expect, he instead had proposed an idea that had confusion sweeping over them in waves. He proposed a rule of self-governance. The people would be free to oversee themselves with an elected council or leader; all they needed to do was meet the quota of harvesting quintessence that Zarkon was hoping for and they could live their lives in peace just as if their planet had never been conquered by the Galra.

Their confusion had quickly melted into distrust as they wondered if Lotor's plan was just another ploy in order to lead them to a quick demise. But he had assured them that that wasn't the case.

His plan had been fruitful for a little while. The inhabitants of his colony had been meeting the quota while carrying on with their lives as if they'd never been conquered in the first place, but he'd slipped up.

He'd walked into the throne room, a servant had fetched him to tell him that Zarkon had required his presence...alone.

It made some part of Lotor's heart warm inside of him. The same part that still clung to childish delusions and hopes of having his own father recognize him. When he walked into the throne room, he could sense that something was undoubtedly wrong as he spotted his father staring out one of the windows lining the throne room, his hands clasped behind his back and more importantly the witch hanging by his side like an obedient pet.

"Son," Zarkon called out, his gaze still focused on the wide expanse of space outside the ship. In the distance was the tiny, yellowish-green colony that had been given to Lotor. "Do you know what qualities define a great emperor?"

"The ability to lead his people through difficult times?" He had answered, much to the chagrin of his father, who turned his head after staring contemplatively outside for a few more seconds.

A smile that didn't quite reach Zarkon's eyes stretched across his lips that had Lotor's heart pounding in his chest. "That's quite a studious answer," Zarkon chastised, "but it's not the one I'm seeking." He turned his gaze back out toward the colony floating before them. "A leader must be willing to make sacrifices at the cost of others, especially if it's to sustain their own empire."

Confusion forced Lotor's brows to pinch together until he heard cries behind him of someone struggling to free themselves from their captor's grasps. "Let me go! Let me go!" A young woman screamed; she had yellow skin and long appendages that stretched from the sides of her head and served as her ears that were covered in red polka-dotted spots. The pupils of her eyes were shaped like clovers and as Lotor turned toward the sound of her voice, he recognized her as much as she did him.

Sela was the leader's daughter, found abandoned in a field sometime after a civil war had ripped through the colony. Her father had found her and taken her in to raise her as if she was his own blood and flesh. She had a crush on him, something that he found endearing in a youthful way. But as she was being dragged in by a pair of servants that endearment she had for him seemed to wash away into frantic confusion.

Lotor's gaze swiveled to his father, the tiny seed of fury that was blooming inside of him was barely disguised as he growled out, "What are you doing?"

"I'm giving you an option." Those five words left a chill running up Lotor's spine as he watched his father turn toward him. "Either be a leader or…" He didn't even bother finishing the sentence, instead choosing to vaguely motion with the back of his hand in his son's direction.

Lotor knew the choices he was being given, even as his fingers curled in toward his palms. His fists trembling as his fangs sunk into his lower lip.

Ice crackled in the hollow's of Zarkon's eyes, a chill left from his lips aside the sharp notes of bitter disappointment that Lotor could just hear dripping from the words that he spoke. "So be it." With a sharp turn of his head, he ordered for all weapons to be pointed at the colony.

Anger burned in the hollow of Lotor's throat as he bowed his head as Sela's high pitched screams filled the interior of the room that slowly blended into horrified sobs. Lotor couldn't bring himself to look at the purple streams of light that burst forth from the Galra fleet of ships and down toward the colony. The light collided with the planet, causing a bright explosion of fire and smoke to envelop the planet; the smoke cleared away just a few seconds later to reveal behind a jagged, piece of a broken planet. Like the jagged pieces of a bowl or a dish that someone had dropped onto the floor. Random bits of rubble and debris floated away from the gray rock that had formerly been the colony Lotor had been in charge of.

A wave of pure shock replaced the anger that was surging in Lotor's veins. His knees buckled beneath him; his strength leaving him as he collapsed onto his knees, his head lowered in pure shock and shame as the loud metallic clang of Zarkon's armor informed Lotor that his father was heading in his direction.

"You disappoint me." Disgust dripped from every syllable that Zarkon let out alongside the waves of frustration that rolled off and stabbed into Lotor's side. Lotor could barely lift his head as Zarkon ordered the pair of servants that were restraining Sela to haul her away and dispose of her as if she was no more than mere scraps of garbage.

It wasn't long after that that Lotor had the fateful moment that had changed his life forever. The moment he had told Lance about in ragged breaths and unshed tears burning in his eyes in that illuminated cell. When he had dared to challenge his father in front of the other Galra generals. Challenge his very ideas and his ways, some part of him had done it out of bitterness and years of resentment that had just boiled to a tipping point. A tipping point that had ended in him fighting against his own father in front of thousands of other Galra's, he was meant to serve as both a source of entertainment and a reminder that no one should ever dare challenge the emperor.

Even as Lotor lay bleeding and wounded in the dirt, he would never forget the utter look of disgust and hatred that burned in Zarkon's eyes as they settled upon him. "You're weak," Zarkon had spat out with enough venom in his voice to make Lotor wince; though he wasn't certain if that was from the pain of his wounds or the sharp sting of hurt that surged through him. "You're merely a prince who sits atop a kingdom of dust and broken bones." Zarkon's eyes narrowed with a thin vein of cold resentment as he pointed the tip of his sword at his own son. "You're an heir to nothing."

He had turned his back on his own son as if he was nothing more than a stranger before announcing to him—announcing to everyone that was there—that he was banished from the empire.

A cold chill had run through him as Lotor had come to the realization that he was suddenly alone. That he would have to survive in a harsh world that cared little for him.

The years after he had been banished from the empire had been a whirlwind of memories and nightmares that had blended together. He'd had to fight for himself, scrap together any source of money that he could in order to afford a meal for the night. At some point he'd entangled himself into the world of becoming a gladiator, fighting for others source of entertainment for the night.

It'd been a good source of money for a while, had allowed Lotor the chance to not worry about how he'd scrape together enough change in order to afford even a bowl of soup. Or even worry about where he'd rest for the night without having to be more alert than he normally was. All he had to do was make sure that he won a match, even if he walked away with bruises and scratches that just looked like they weren't going to fade even after a week.

He hadn't expected much to come out of his life.

Nothing held much meaning to him after all of that. Even in the few, impersonal relationships he'd formed, they meant nothing to him. His longest relationship—or rather relationsips—had managed to last for a week.

It was at the end of a match, Lotor had just taken off his helmet. The long strands of his hair tumbling out of the gear and down his back when he had felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, slightly annoyed to see the overseer of the match standing behind him. Raising a single brow in the overseer's direction, it was all the indication of a question that he gave to the man. "There's a rich couple, over there—" The overseer pointed toward the end of the hall, Lotor followed the direction. There was a green-skinned woman, her skin was gelatinous in nature and seemed quite seethrough. He stared intently at the small, golden fish that swam up the interior of her leg. Beside her was a male, his skin had been a dark shade of lavender, with long pointed ears and raven colored hair that had been slicked back. A few strands of his hair had been braided with the braid tucked behind his ear. There were bright white dots that had been sprinkled across the surface of his nose and cheeks that Lotor could spot even all the way down the hall.

He squinted at the both of them. They didn't seem like they were rich from the clothing they wore. The wore street clothes that he'd seen some of the younger attendees to the stadium wearing. It was all flashy, bright pastel colors with a mix of darker colors imbued into it. He sneered, remembering that it had something to do with the sudden appeal of _'two juxtaposing concepts.'_

It was goddamn weird in his opinion.

"They don't look rich," Lotor suggested, turning to face the overseer.

"Well, they are," the man replied with a roll of his eyes, "just get over there and see what they want. And if you want my opinion kid, do whatever the hell they want you to do and you've got a nice big tip coming your way."

Nodding tersely, he had made his way over to the couple. The young woman arched her brow in surprise and let out a playfully laugh as she turned to her partner and pressed her hand to his chest. She flashed a dazzling smile in Lotor's direction before turning toward her partner. "See...I told you he would come over."

Her partner didn't say anything, just simply gave her a small nod as a smile stretched across his face. Lotor noticed now that he was up close that the bright white freckles stretching across the man's skin resembled bright stars. They seemed to twinkle on the surface of his skin.

"What do you two want?" His words were brisk with a thin layer of frost coating them as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

The woman shivered as if a chill had drifted down the hall. The fish lazily bobbed in the hollow of her chest. "Ohh chilly!" She remarked with a feminine giggle. A purr rolled out of the hollow of her throat as her eyes narrowed, her gaze becoming half-lidded and darkened as she drank in Lotor's form like he was a succulent meal that had been presented before her. "I—" She began, her eyes quickly darting to her partner before she corrected herself. "— we have a proposition for you."

The words of the overseer rattled in Lotor's mind. Promises of a bigger tip so long as he listened to whatever request these two had for him. "What is it?"

The woman tsked , lifting a finger to wag it in Lotor's direction. "Be patient. All good things come in due time, but…" She paused, "if you are interested then—" she shoved her hand into the pocket of her pants, rummaging through it before pulling out a slim, black card. She held it out in Lotor's direction with a single arched brow if she waited to see if he accepted it.

He obliged her. Reaching out and plucking the card from between her two fingers. Glancing down at the card, he frowned at the gold sharp characters on the card that clearly listed the address of a hotel room.

"—Come to that hotel room," she pointed toward the card, "—at exactly midnight if you're interested in _earning_ a tip." She turned to leave, tugging at the arm of her partner as he fixed Lotor with an unreadable expression. Giving one last turn, she blew a kiss in Lotor's direction as the Galra watched the two of them disappear amongst the throngs of people.

It was exactly at midnight much later that Lotor found himself standing in front of the very hotel room that had been written on the card that young woman had given him.

He glanced down at himself, an uncomfortable prickle traveling up his skin as his body adjusted to the lack of armor weighing him down. He'd left it behind, despite his desire to take it with him—something he nearly did before the overseer had caught him trying to leave the arena with it on. He'd chewed Lotor out about the unprofessionalism of attempting to go meet the rich couple in his armor. So he'd left it behind, hidden carefully in his room away from any prying eyes that would attempt to snoop. Instead, he was standing in front of the hotel door dressed in his underarmor that functioned as a pair of casual clothes when he needed it to. A dark jacket was thrown over the entire ensemble that had him standing from head to toe in black clothing. Raising a fist to the door, he hadn't even knocked against it when the door swung open with such a force that it had surprise and suspicion burning in Lotor's eyes.

"Oh?" The young woman he met from earlier was standing on the other side of the door. Her lips quirked up into a surprised smile. "I'm surprised you even came." She tipped her head back, motioning for him to come into the hotel room. She held the door open a little wider, allowing Lotor to step inside. He glanced around the room.

It was a typical, lavish hotel suite. His eyes scanned the living room of the suite, raking over the high-quality furnishings that decorated the room. But Lotor was transfixed by the ceiling; tilting his head back, he could see that the entire ceiling had been replaced by a large tank of water. Dozens of native fish to the planet and some more exotic variations swam in the tank above his head.

"What exactly was this proposition that you had for me?" Lotor questioned, his skin crawling with a sense of unease as he hadn't allowed himself to feel comfortable after his banishment from the empire. This all felt _a little too much_ to him.

There was a breathy laugh that pulled itself from the woman's lips as if she was laughing about a lengthy inside joke that she and Lotor shared knowledge of. "Patience." Was the only word to come out of her mouth as she moved toward the closed door that separated the living room from the bedroom. Opening that one too, she crooked a finger in his direction, motioning him to enter the bedroom.

Obliging her, Lotor crossed the room in a few strides before finding himself in an elaborately furnished bedroom. That same fish tank ceiling he found in the living room was also replicated in here as well. There was a wall of floor to ceiling windows that showed the sparkling nightlife city that existed beyond the hotel. A large bed that could easily hold several people took up the entirety of the room and sitting on the edge of it was the male he'd seen earlier.

Behind him, he heard the soft click of the door shutting and turned to see the young woman leaning against the door. "I suppose we should introduce ourselves before discussing exactly why you're here." The young woman pointed to herself. "The name is Nadira, and he—" she pointed at her male companion that hadn't made a single movement since Lotor entered the room. "—is Yael." Yael nodded in greeting in Lotor's direction, a movement that Lotor returned with a small nod of his own head.

Nadira pushed herself away from the door, her eyes half-lidded as she sauntered toward where Lotor stood with a swing of her hips. Pressing a hand against the broad expanse of Lotor's chest, she purred as she walked her fingers up from his sternum to press her index finger against his lips. "If you agree to what we ask you to do there's a large, generous tip involved."

Reaching up, Lotor moved Nadira's finger away from his lips to ask, "What do you want me to do?"

She smiled at that, cocking her head to the side as if she was contemplating what she wanted him to do, but she already knew the reason she had asked him to come to this hotel room. "I want you to sleep with us—" Her eyes darted to her partner on the bed, Lotor turned his head, following her gaze as his own eyes shifted back and forth from her face to Yael's. "— _both_ of us." She clarified. The smile on her face stretching as she watched Lotor's brows pinch together.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you getting out of this?"

She jerked back away from him, laughter spilling from her plump lips as if Lotor had just told her the best joke she'd heard in her entire life. "What wouldn't I be getting out of this?" She hiccuped between peals of laughter. She took in a steadying breath, before leaning close to him, their lips hovering mere inches apart from one another. "So...do you agree?"

A smile curved across his own features as he leaned forward, making the small distance between their lips even smaller. This close together, he could smell the sweet almost perfumy scent that seemed to cling to Nadira. "Yes," he whispered as she leaned forward to capture his lips in a kiss. Her skin felt cold against his; in the back of his mind he thought her skin would be sticky as well, but it was anything but that. It felt more like sliding your finger across the surface of a jiggly dessert.

He parted his lips, feeling her own open as she slid her tongue in between the parted flesh. A sweet taste began to flood into the interior of Lotor's mouth; it tasted familiar like the weight of his favorite childhood sweets weighing down on the surface of his tongue. Moaning into the kiss, he reached up to grab at the tight curls of her hair. His fingers weaving between the gelatinous strands as he tipped her head back, his own head leaning to the side as he deepened the kiss. His tongue darted out to lick a quick stripe against her lower lip before his own tongue snaked its way into her mouth. His tongue brushed over the surface of her teeth, the hollow of her cheeks and the surface of her tongue.

She pulled away from him, drawing handfuls of air into her body as she carefully licked her lips, shuddering at the taste of Lotor on them. "Have you ever done this before?" She questioned as Lotor turned at the sensation of a pair of hands touching his hips, a chest pressing against his back and a pair of lips pressing against the side of his neck. Transfixed he stared at the star-like freckles gracing Yael's skin as the man kissed Lotor's neck in a way that had his brain unable to form coherent thoughts.

"No," Lotor answered truthfully.

"Me neither," Nadira answered with a smile as she reached out to touch the long strands of Yael's hair. The dark-skinned man pulled away from Lotor's neck with a small smile gracing his lips only for it to be hidden as Nadira leaned forward to capture them in a kiss that was full of tongue and teeth.

Even centuries later and Lotor still remembered that night like the first time he'd experienced it.

Nadira had laughed as she pulled away from Yael, a giggle on her lips as she glanced in Lotor's direction. "We shouldn't exactly forget the guest of honor." She'd reached out and grabbed Lotor by his wrist, pulling him closer toward the two of them. She moved so that she was behind Lotor, her hands snaking underneath his underarmor, the tips of her nails digging into his sides as Yael distracted him with a kiss.

In Lotor's opinion, it felt overwhelming, the entire experience of it all. But not in a negative connotation...it was a good form of overwhelming. Like being surrounded by dozens and thousands of sensations that made him feel pleasant as the young woman pulled his jacket from his shoulders to kiss at his neck. His lips still moving against Yael's own. It was a blur of sensation after that really, hands and lips caressing against his skin as the fluttering of clothes hitting against the floor was a background noise compared to the thousands of sensations that overwhelmed him.

Until he found himself standing in that hotel room, his clothing littered onto the floor with Nadira and Yael's clothing strewn haphazardly around the room as well.

His eyes had stared transfixed at Nadira's form as she sank to her knees in front of Lotor. Reaching out with her left hand, she grasped his length and with her other hand reached out to grasp Yael's cock. With a gasp, Lotor's head tipped back as her hot breath ghosted across the fleshy head of his penis for a few seconds until she leaned in more, enveloping the entire flesh into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth.

It had been an experience—a sexual experience—after that. Like watching an artist create a masterpiece before his very eyes, watching them lift up their brush to smear streaks of paint against a canvas. That to a naked eye was nothing more than globs of paint marring a canvas that in mere seconds dried to reveal a beautifully painted landscape.

There had been hands tracing the curves and planes of his body. Touching him in ways he'd never experienced before. He'd watched the both of them get on their knees, their tongues tracing patterns into his cock.

That night he'd experienced anything and everything. And as he slipped his jacket on a pair of seethrough arms wrapped around his shoulders. Clutched in one of the hands was a stack of money. Lotor turned his head just as Nadira placed a kiss against his cheek. "Come back some other time." She whispered through a hoarse voice, a tired, satisfied smile stretching across her lips as she slipped the money into the pocket of his jacket.

He did just that too. For an entire week he went back to the both of them, experienced positions he never knew existed before. And it had been a fun affair for him, up until the evening he'd left behind the arena and the entire planet and let it all become a distant memory in the back of his mind.

At some point, he'd resigned himself to die as both an exiled prince and a failure in his father's eyes and had lived each day as if he was a dead man walking. It wasn't until he'd been summoned back to the empire after his father's collapse and slip into a coma that it seemed everything had been shifted back into its rightful place for him.

He'd formulated a plan; a plan that involved him biding his time and waiting till old age inevitably took his father in his comatose state. But that all changed when he met Lance.

When he'd held his broken arm gingerly between his own two hands, rubbing the medicinal salve into the purple and green blotchy marks that littered the Paladin's skin. Or the moment he opened up to Lance more than he had done with even his own general's in the past.

Or when he had laid eyes on Zorak lifting Lance's body up into the air by his neck, the grip he had on the pommel of his sword tightening as he rushed over to the general and swung the blade till Zorak's head was toppling down to the floor.

As much as Lotor didn't want to admit, Lance had changed him to some extent. They both had changed. A year ago Lotor would have scoffed at the idea of any of the Paladin's standing up for him, especially Lance. He'd have scoffed at the image of Lance's brows pinching together out of frustration as he argued with the other Paladin's that exchanging Lotor for Pidge's father reeked with suspicion.

He didn't quite know when his own words to the Paladin had become filled with bits of flirtation. Had it been after he'd catch the glimpses of desire burning in Lance's eyes?

Lance had changed him and at some point, Lotor had realized that he wanted to spend the rest of his life by Lance's side. See the crinkles of skin tighten around Lance's eyes and mouth as he laughed, watching the skin of his face smoothen as he fell asleep. When Lotor had uttered "I love you" to him, it had felt...natural.

It'd felt right.

Even when Lotor had been left alone in the rift, floating aimlessly through that dazzling, white space, he drifted off to sleep with Lance's smile and laughter on his mind. When he had woken up to find Lance's face floating above him it had felt like such a dream. A dream he didn't want to wake up from even if it was proven it wasn't real.

Something that he knew was untrue when he felt Lance's warm lips pressing against his forehead over and over, whispered words lulling him back to a dream where a smiling Lance was beside him, wearing casual clothing that consisted of a coffee colored leather jacket, draped over a powder blue shirt and denim jeans.

Lance's shoes had been off and placed down beside him, his socks stuffed into the empty confines of his shoes. He wiggled his toes, burying them into the sand beneath the two of them as he leaned over, resting his head upon Lotor's shoulder. He laid his hand atop Lotor's own and squeezed it lightly as the two of them stared into the distance at the waves gently lapping at the sand.

He never wanted to wake up from this.

* * *

The glowing lights of the cryo pods illuminated the shadow's of Lance's face as he stared at Lotor's sleeping form before him. Worry had long dissipated from his body, instead, leaving behind a hollow shell as Lance kept a watchful eye over him. It'd been hours since he'd been brought aboard and placed inside a cry pod; hours since Lance had questioned a nurse about how long Lotor would have to be kept in one, only to be met with unsure and hesitant answers.

"I'm not sure." A blonde haired Altean woman had answered him. "He had a very large amount of exposure to quintessence. Enough that he should be dead from it, considering how long he was exposed to it. But judging from some tests that we've run, he has a higher tolerance rate to quintessence than most other people. So it's only a matter of waiting and seeing what happens."

Lance had laughed bitterly to himself at that. A cold hollow feeling just eating away at his core as he realized it was simply her way of saying _we don't know when he'll wake up._ Reaching out, he pressed his fingers against the cool glass of the pod, slowly pressing down until the skin of his palm was also touching it.

The door to the med bay hissed apart with such a ferocious sound to it that it had Lance jumping out of his skin, his head snapping toward the sound as Acxa stormed into the room. There was a lilac blush dusting her face that lulled him into a false sense of security that was only shattered when she drew back her fist and punched the glass of the cryo-pod Lotor was resting in.

His eyes went wide, his lips parting to stop her when Acxa drew back her fist and punched at the glass yet again. "I hate you!" Acxa screamed, her fist trembling against the glass, a quiver of pain and hurt threaded through her words. He could see that her lower lip was trembling as droplets of her tears curved down her cheeks, hanging loosely on the edges of her jaw and the tip of her nose before gravity won its battle, sending the droplets tumbling through the air before splattering onto the ground. "I hate you," the words came a little softer now as her fist trembled against the thick glass.

A few inches behind her, Lance simply stared at the moment, frozen both in time and space as he let Acxa wallow in her grief and frustration.

"Why couldn't you have just told us about Narti?" There was a sharp hiccup to her voice as the name of her former close friend fell from her lips. It sounded strangled and twisted; raw with emotion to Lance's ears. " We wouldn't have understood at first, but we would have eventually understood." Her fist pulled away from the glass, trembling from the waves of grief and frustration that washed over her, she aimed it at the glass of the cryo-pod once more. A trickle of blood oozing from her knuckles as she bowed her head, the tears streaming down her face a little faster than earlier. "Why didn't you tell us about the Alteans either? About everything?"

Her fist collided with the glass again, over and over, until her knuckles were bloody and raw. Streaks of bright red blood coated the glass. "I hate you! I hate you so much!" Her words were strangled as they clawed their way out of her throat, her shoulders drooped in despair as a hiccuping sob rumbled in the hollow of her throat. "Why do you always feel the need," she hiccuped in between gasps of air, "to put the entire universe on your shoulders like it's your duty alone to bear?" She pulled in a shuddering breath between the bouts of sobs that racked her body. "I trusted you...the day you saved me from being sold to those traders...I trusted you—" She lifted her head to stare at Lotor's sleeping face, her voice wavering as she spoke. "—I trusted you with my own secrets. I trusted you because you were the closest thing I had to a friend—to a brother—we've been through thick and thin together, but Lotor—" She took a breath, her eyes slipping shut as tears dripped from the corners of her eyes. "—Why couldn't you trust me?"

Lance watched as Acxa slowly slid down to the floor, her body shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself. Her sobs bounced off of the walls, masking the sound off footsteps aimed in her direction. She felt a soft touch upon her shoulder, causing her to turn her head. Through a tear-drenched vision, she saw a hand resting upon her shoulder, her eyes traced up the arm it was connected to until she spotted Lance's face.

His eyes were pointed directly at Lotor's face; he didn't need to say anything to her, neither did she. Instead, she welcomed the silence and allowed herself to replace it with the sound of the sobs that tore itself from her throat.

* * *

A guttural roar tore through the room as a large fist sailed through the air, before connecting with the metal wall of the room. As the fist pulled back, it revealed a rather sizeable dent in the metal. Zethrid's face was colored from anger as she let out another roar and a swing of her fist that placed another sizeable dent in the wall of the room she had been given to stay in for the duration of the trip. Her heart was beating furiously in her chest as she attempted to push the irritating thoughts that had been swirling in her head out by lashing at her room walls.

But it wasn't working.

She knew her along with Ezor and Acxa were angry about everything, they just didn't talk about it.

They were angry at Lotor for leaving them in the dark...about everything, especially after everything they'd all been through together. But she was especially angry at Acxa for knowing more about Lotor's plans that she or Ezor had ever been made aware of.

She was throwing punch after punch at her walls, the sickening crunch of the metal beneath her fists a sound that competed with the deep, quick thrumming of her heart. The door to her room hissed apart to reveal Ezor who glanced warily at the dark tint of her cheeks and the sweat dripping down her skin.

Without saying anything Ezor walked into the room, spread her arms apart and wrapped them around Zethrid's waist. "I know you're hurting," Ezor whispered, "but you don't need to hurt alone."

Biting down on her lower lip, Zethrid couldn't stop the soft sobs that rolled from her throat and out into the room. Her fist, shaking against the wall until it fell by her side as tears trailed down her cheeks. She didn't need to turn around to see similar tears dripping down Ezor's cheeks as well.

* * *

Days passed by on their journey back to the Altean new colony. Even though any other day, Lance would have been freaking out about the site of the pale blue planet with large green landmasses dotted over it. It was anything but a joyous trip as Taylan called for all hands on deck to prepare for a landing. Lotor still hadn't woken up yet and he couldn't find any enjoyment about seeing the planet without Lotor to point out interesting facts and anecdotes about Altean culture to him.

Lance envisioned the way, the corner of Lotor's nose would slightly crinkle as his lips drew back into a smile, his voice becoming breathy with laughter as he told Lance some impossible fact about Altea that he couldn't discern was just a joke or an actual truth.

"Lance?" He was jerked out of his own thoughts by Taylan's voice beside him. Wrinkling his brows at the teal-haired Altean. "We've landed."

Begrudgingly, he nodded his head in thanks as Taylan lead Lance and Lotor's generals off of the ship. Lance's eyes narrowed at the strong rays of sunshine after so long slightly blinded him, preventing him from discerning any shapes in the distance.

"Welcome...to the new colony!" The teal-haired Altean called out as Lance's eyes slowly adjusted to the strong sunshine.

Beside him, Ezor couldn't contain the gasp that fell from her lips. "Woah!" She breathed out, the joy apparent in her voice. Lance couldn't help but agree as his jaw dropped to the floor at the sight before his eyes.

He let out a breathless laugh as he walked down the ramp of the ship toward a steel platform that contained several docked ships. Above his head was a single, burning sun that despite shining strongly, couldn't strip away the beauty of what Lance was seeing. Green, grassy fields rustled in the light breeze that coasted across the planet, rustling the pale purple flowers with golden, bell-shaped pistil's protruding from the middle of it. As the flowers rustled in the breeze, a sweet, honey-like scent filled the air.

In the distance, sleek chrome covered buildings with vibrant blue accents rose up into the sky, with smaller buildings surrounding it and stretching outward until it resembled something of an ever-growing city.

"Welcome to home sweet home." A smile stretched across Taylan's face as he ushered the four of them toward a shuttle that would take them toward the city and to where Taylan had already prepared a place for all of them to stay.

"So what's going to happen to Lotor?" Lance questioned as they walked across the platform toward another longer platform, in the distance Lance could make out a chrome train. The sides of it were made of a clear see-through glass that had rolling Altean text drifting across from it before blinking out of existence. A light blue glow caused the train to hover slightly above the single white colored track.

"Well, he's already been transported to one of our medical facilities where he'll be cared for until he wakes up. But I assure you that we'll inform you immediately if there are any changes in his condi—"

A blaring siren cut through Taylan's words, causing the Altean to whip his gaze up toward the sky where a dozen large ships that loomed above the planet. "How—?" His words were cut off again by the frantic screaming of other Altean's who were rushing all across the platform.

Lance's brows crinkled as he took in the dark black ships that were traced with bright purple accents.

"Aren't those Galra ships?" Ezor asked breathlessly. "How'd they find us?"

Sleek fighter ships launched themselves up into the sky, bright blue beams of light shot out from the ships, knocking out a single ship's cannon before sending the entire thing exploding as flaming debris fell from the sky and toward the ocean.

"Who knows?" Lance replied back, but I'm not about to let these guys fight by themselves." With that Lance spun on his heels and ran back toward the ship where he knew Red was docked. He didn't need to turn to know that the three generals were already questioning Taylan about the availability of any more fighter planes that they could commandeer in order to help.

It wasn't long before Red was flying through the sky, in his ear, Acxa's voice crackled over his communication device. "We have your back covered, Lance."

"Thanks," Lance assured her back as his fingers tightened around the thrusters on either side of him, he pushed them forward as Red's maw widened. A bright, red-hot beam boiled inside of his throat that gushed forward, releasing a volley of magma hot lava and fire that cut through a single ship in a large arc. The ship blew up, causing a hail of debris to plummet down to the ocean. "Two ships down, ten more to go," Lance mumbled to himself as he dodged and weaved through the plethora of Altean ships that swarmed through the sky. In the distance he watched one of the ships' wings get clipped by a beam of light from a Galra ship.

The white Altean ship tumbled toward the planet, leaving a grey plume of smoke behind as the ship twirled and spun through the air. Red shot forward, his maw open as Lance grew closer to the sinking ship until Red's mouth bit down on the uninjured wing. Quickly descending close to an undisturbed field of fauna and greenery, Lance gently set down the ship before zipping back up into the sky where the Altean ships were struggling to protect themselves from the Galra ships.

They were clearly overwhelmed and underprepared. None of the Altean's were used to fighting in a defensive battle that meant protecting not only their lives but the lives of the citizens below. As Lance dodged and weaved through a hail of purple beams, an Altean ship that was flying too close to his side got clipped by one of the beams. Causing a fiery explosion to erupt that engulfed Red's side, sending the Lion careening through the air as the cockpit went awash with flashing red lights and blaring warning sounds.

"Shit! Shit!" Lance grumbled as his grip on the controls tightened as he struggled to bring Red out of the freefall they were undergoing. In the distance another Altean ship exploded into a hail of fiery debris, causing Lance to curse as Red finally righted himself in the air, hovering above a field of flowers before he shot off into the sky again.

The number of Altean ships that were in the sky was rapidly dwindling compared the six remaining Galra fleets that flew in the sky. His teeth sinking down into his lower lip as he came to a cold, hard realization that just maybe this was a battle he wasn't going to be able to win. "Acxa, Ezor, Zethid, fall back from this one," Lance spoke aloud as he dodged a beam that was fired into his direction.

"What!? Why?" Acxa questioned incredulously. There was a biting edge to her words that made Lance think she was refusing because she knew what he was planning to do.

"Just pull back please," Lance pleaded with all three of them as cries of protest began to fill his hearing. "I need you to go back and protect the Alteans; evacuate them off of the colony in case I—" He couldn't bring himself to say anything, instead he shook his head and mumbled, "I don't think we can win this one, Red."

"Well, it sounds like you'll need some help to do that won't you?" A familiar voice crackled in his ears, causing Lance's head to shoot up and stare into the distance.

Despite the bright rays of the sun above his head, he could make out the distinct shape of four feline-like figures heading his way. As they drew closer to him, he could begin to make out the individual characteristics of these allies coming to his defense.

"Pidge. Hunk." Shiro sounded over all of their communication devices. There was a familiar tone to his words that just caused the stress from Lance's body to dissipate a little as Shiro eased back into his role of a commander. "Flank left and take out the ship on the farthest side of the formation. Keith, team up with Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor to take out the two ships on the right of the formation. Lance you're going to be with Allura and you're both going to flank a hard left, perform a barrel roll and tackle the smaller ship in the formation. Everyone understand?"

A chorus of agreements rang out as all of them darted in the directions they'd been ordered to go by Shiro. The battle was a whirlwind in Lance's mind from then out, there were some close calls with Red nearly getting caught in the path of an oncoming beam, only for one of the other Lions to jump in and take the brunt of the hit. But eventually, they managed to push the Galra back, until the last ship out of the fleet was several falling, flaming pieces of debris that sunk into the ocean below them.

The Lions landed on an empty patch of the field close to where the platform where Lance had been mere moments before. As he made his way out of his cockpit, he saw Taylan rushing toward his direction as the other Paladins made their way out of their Lions. Even from where he stood, Lance could see the flicker of shock that burned within Allura's eyes as she took in Taylan's Altean features. There were a lot of questions, Lance needed to ask his friends, specifically how they managed to find him and this colony, but he shoved it into the back of his mind to bring up later. Especially as he worried that the male Altean was rushing toward him with more grim news to deliver.

Instead, as he drew closer, Lance's eyes narrowed at the sharp upturned curves of the corner of Taylan's lips. His lips parted, a question burned onto the tip of his tongue. But the very air from his lungs was wrenched out of him when Taylan's words drowned out every other sound that competed for Lance's attention.

"I've already told Acxa and the others, but...he's awake."

"Where?" That single word sounded faint. Strangled to Lance's own ears as the Altean gave him a set of directions once he boarded the train that would take him into the heart of the city. He didn't hear any of it, his heart pounding so wildly in his chest that he thought it was burst through some of his ribs and out of the flesh itself. He didn't even let Taylan finish before he was rushing away from the Altean and onto the train platform.

He felt like the entire world around him was one technicolor coated blur as his mind focused on only one thing. Later, he would hardly be able to recall getting onto the train, much less the stares from the other passengers. Confusion clearly painted on their faces as they took a glance at the armor adorning his body. The trip into the city barely registered to him, until his feet touched down on the platform of the station and he glanced around for any sort of signage that would lead him to the hospital. Altean text was displayed brightly on several holographic boards that stretched across the platform, Lance frowned at it only to jump slightly when he felt the touch of a hand upon his shoulder.

Turning his head, slightly, Lance wasn't too surprised to see Allura standing behind him with the rest of the Paladins. She pointed a single finger toward a distant sign. "It says the hospital is the next block over."

With a fresh set of directions, they made their way to the hospital in no time. It was another sleek looking building, through green foliage weaved its way through the building and clung against the walls. Reminding Lance of many of the buildings that he'd seen on Oriande that had been integrated with nature in a similar way. A pair of nurses pointing Lance toward a brightly lit room toward the back of the hospital. There were a pair of guards who were stationed just outside of the room in order to ascertain Lotor's safety.

He rushed in and found Acxa kneeling on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth on the floor. Her arms were wrapped around Lotor's shoulders, with the Galran Emperor's own arms wrapped around the general as well. Ezor and Zethrid stood toward the sides, fat droplets dripping down their own two cheeks as well. Leaning closer toward Lotor, Acxa whispered something briefly in his ear, causing the emperor to turn his head weakly, a feeble smile pulling across his face as his gaze settled on Lance's features.

"Lan—" His name was barely out of Lotor's mouth in the short time it took for Lance to cross the room, drop to his knees, cup one of Lotor's cheeks in his hand and lean in to capture the emperor's lips in a chaste kiss. There was a stream of wetness dripping down both of their faces; intermingling in such a way that neither of them could tell whose tears where whose. Pulling away, Lance pressed his forehead against Lotor's own, the Galra chuckling through his tears as he playfully told Lance, "I missed you too."

A sharp gasp of distress behind them had Lance pulling away from Lotor and turning his head just in time to see Romelle spin on her heels, reach out and grab a guards gun. It was so sudden and abrupt that the guard's own fingers had just twitched with surprise the moment Romelle turned and pointed the muzzle in Lotor's direction. Her eyes were dark with fury, her cheeks pinkened from rage as the gun shook in her trembling hands as she kept it aimed at Lotor. "You can't be alive!" Spittle arced through the air from her lips. "You just can't be!" Her finger squeezed on the trigger just as the other guard had pulled his own weapon from his holster.

"Oh no, you don't!" Pidge barked out as Coran shifted forward with the reaction speed of a snake. His right hand lashed out gripping Romelle's right wrist, twisting it in such a way that a wince of pain caused the gun's muzzle to point toward a window. A ball of light shot out of the gun, shattering through the glass as a million shards rained down into the room. The gun clattered from Romelle's fingers, Coran kept twisting her wrist in such a way that it became pinned behind her back. He did the same with her left and pushed his own weight forward so that the female Altean was falling toward the ground, Coran's knee pressed into her lower back.

Outside of the room, there was a pitter-patter of hurried steps that had several more guards surrounding the only exit of the room. One of them—an older, silver-haired Altean—peered warily into the room, his brows scrunched together as he examined the scene. "What is going on here?" He questioned, just as Allura glanced down at Romelle. That trust she had once held in the young woman now all gone and replaced with a burning suspicion that could have disintegrated the Romelle where she was pinned down.

"I don't know," Allura hissed," but I'm certain we're going to find out."

* * *

"We've been at this for hours!" Hunk threw his arms up in the air out of exasperation as he frowned at the one-way glass all of the Paladins had been peering through. Under the harsh light in the other room, sat Romelle, who was wringing her hands together nervously as she awaited whomever else was going to stroll through the door.

Allura's arms were crossed in front of her chest as she stared at the other Altean. Her lips flattened out in a way that it complimented the stoic appearance of her face. She'd been unusually quiet ever since the guards had arrested Romelle and tossed her into the room for questioning. They'd had their own time at attempting to interrogate her, but Romelle hadn't said a single word to them and they all but had given up until Allura had requested that the guards allow her and the rest of the Paladins the ability to question her. They had taken one sweeping glance at the Paladin's and all but readily agreed under the hope that they'd pull out whatever information they could from Romelle that they had failed to do.

Cocking her head at the glass, the princess's eyes had narrowed as Romelle lifted her head and nervously peered at the glass. "I'm going in."

A wave of shock swept through everyone. Keith narrowed his eyes at her, his mouth slightly turned down in such a way that he didn't think that was a good idea. "Allura, let someone else question her. I don't think you're thinking coherently—"

"I'm coherent enough to know that I want to question her," Allura snapped at him, her mood souring as the words left her lips. "Out of everyone else here, she betrayed my trust the most. Played to my sympathies and lead me to turn against Lotor with whatever objective she had in mind. She may have played everyone, but she played me the worse and I won't tolerate that."

Keith raised his brows at her, gave her a single sharp blink of surprise before he leaned back and raised his hands in front of his chest before jerking his chin toward the door as if to say: _she's your prey now. Eat her alive if you want._

With that said, Allura marched toward the door, throwing it open just enough that she could march into the room and let the door slam loudly behind her with enough force that Romelle lifted her head sharply. She stared at the door suspiciously like she was afraid the force of it would cause the entire thing to fall from its hinges.

"Allura." There was a soft, half-smile that stretched across Romelle's features. The half-smile of a friend who knew they had done wrong, but didn't know how much the emotional damage was against the person they had wronged.

"You don't get to call me that," Allura spat the words out, a chill coating the edge of them as she rushed toward the table in the middle of the room and slammed her palms down onto it. Her eyes narrowing as she added, "especially not after what you did."

Embarrassed like a small child who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, Romelle dropped her gaze back to the table. Her mouth downturned into a frown. "I was doing it for the good of our people."

The tips of Allura's ears went pink with rage as her fingers dug into the metal of the table. "For the good of our—! Do you hear yourself right now!? I—" Whatever she was going to say was cut short as the door behind her swung open. She barely had lifted her gaze when she noticed the fearful look on Romelle's face and hear the distinct click of the door's lock turning before she turned around and saw a cold, distant look upon Lance's face. Her gaze flickered toward the one-way glass, wondering if Lotor and his generals were standing in the room as well.

Romelle's skin was an ashen color as if she'd stared directly into the eyes of a terrifying beast.

Allura chose to ignore the new addition into the room. Instead, she kept her gaze locked onto Romelle. "Why would you do this?"

Remaining quiet, Romelle kept her lips clamped shut as her fingers curled into fists, her knuckles pressed against the table as she kept her own gaze focused on the table in front of her. A few tense seconds passed with Lance crossing his own arms in front of him, the corner of his lips pulling down into a scowl before he let his arms drop to his side. "Enough games." He crossed the room in a pair of quick strides, his hands slamming down onto the table with such an audible noise it had Romelle jumping in her chair slightly.

Her gaze snapping upward as she stared warily at him.

"Lance," Allura said his name like it was a warning, but that didn't stop the Paladin from moving so quickly that he had already rounded the table and was pulling Romelle out of her seat by the collar of her clothes. His face was so close to hers that he could make out the pale shade of lavender that ringed her irises. "You know I was held captive for so long that I ended up picking up a thing or two." His words came out in such a way that he sounded proud of the fact, causing Romelle's eyes to widen with fear. Quirking a single brow, Lance cocked his head to the side. "Do you know how painful it is to have the bones in your body broken one by one? Because if you'd like I can teach you." Dropping her collar from his grasp, a gasp fell from Romelle's lips as Lance's grasp snaked out and grabbed her right wrist, he pinned it against her back and swept her legs out from underneath her. It caused her to tip forward until her cheek slammed against the metal table with a harsh sound. Lance twisted her wrist in a painful way that Romelle's eyes widened in fear, tears shimmering in the corner of her eyes as she looked fearful that he would snap her arm in half.

The one-way glass and door rattled and shook as fists banged against it. All three of them could hear the muffled shouts of Lance's name from the next room.

"Stop!" Romelle shook as the scream wrenched itself from her throat. "Stop and I'll tell you everything I know!"

Lance glanced at Allura who gave him a sharp nod. Relenting, he pulled his hands off of Romelle, causing the young Altean to straighten and rub her right wrist gingerly as she glared at Lance with enough contempt that it could melt him straight into the floor.

The frown on her face remained, even as she lowered herself back into the chair she had been seated in moments before. There was a tense silence that washed over the room before Romelle's lips parted and she began a story that even years later Lance would still have a hard time grasping. "Where I come from—my universe that is—Allura is long gone, but in her abscence, she left behind a powerful empire in which Altea rules everything and everyone. Here," she sniffed, "Altea is barely a faint whisper in the back of everyone's mind."

Allura peered at her, the gears in her mind slowly turning as the dots raced to connect themselves together. Her mouth soured as she realized she knew exactly what universe Romelle was talking about. "How did you get here?" Her words came out as a harsh whisper, her eyes shimmering as the corner of her mouth turned upward in a sneer of disgust.

"A few months ago," Romelle continued, "an Altean came to our universe. One who claimed that she had traveled there from another." Her eyes glazed over as the memory washed over her.

 _There had been a tense air that gripped the throne room. Romelle's eyes had darkened as the guards ushered forth the cloaked figure, her hood pulled so far over her face that the shadows of it obscured her features. Romelle glanced at the king from the corner of her eyes. The cheek of his smooth, skin that resembled the color of tilled soil was pressed against the knuckles of his fist. The curly ringlets of his white hair were cropped closely to his head as his aquamarine colored eyes stared coldly at the woman the guards had dragged before him. Though his eyes seemed cold, they held in them a pearl of deep wisdom that clearly belayed his lengthy age._

 _"Tell me why my guards just informed me," his deep voice resonated within the halls of the room, "that you came to them with news about the Galra Empire?" A single, well-shaped brow arched on his face. "An empire that hasn't existed since my grandmother brought the entire Galra civilization to its knees in her youth. Ending with it the reign of terror that threatened not only Altea but several universes?" His eyes narrowed, darkening slightly. "Are we talking about the same empire or have you come here with nothing but lies in an effort to waste my time?"_

 _He stared pointedly at the woman before him._

Lips flattening out into a thin line, Romelle fell silent for a few seconds, before her lips parted as she continued her story. "She told our king that in her universe, Altea was no more. Gone and faded into nothing more than a few granules of debris and broken memories. She spoke of a universe where the Galra ruled universes with an iron fist, one where people had to wait for Voltron to liberate them and where our people—" She lifted her head, her gaze fierce and determined as she stared into Allura's eyes. "— our people are reduced to living in a mere colony. A pale reflection of the flourishing civilization we once had. Instead, she voiced her concerns, voiced how she wanted to change the universe she lived in."

 _The throne room was silent. A hush had fallen over it as the king tapped his cheek with a single index finger as he stared pensively into the distance as their guest continued to speak._

 _Lifting a hand, the king waved at the woman dismissively, causing the woman to still, her lips pressing together in silence._

 _"Romelle."_

 _Romelle lifted her head, her posture straightening as she turned her gaze toward her king. "Yes?" She watched intently as the impassive expression on his face relaxed as a tight smile stretched across his face._

 _"I have a mission for you and your brother."_

"We were given a mission," Romelle continued, "my brother and I. We were sent to this universe in order to spy on Lotor; to persuade the members of Voltron that Lotor was betraying them since the beginning, that instead of having any of your best interests at heart, he was instead playing you all like pawns. And I did that." Her lips flattened out into a thin line as her gaze shifted to the one-way glass. "My brother proved that to me with his very dying breath."

Behind them, the door handle rattled causing Lance to turn toward it. There was a sharp rap of knuckles against the glass that had him reaching out to unlock the door just as Allura kept her own gaze focused on Romelle.

"Who was this Altean?"

"Her name was Honerva," Romelle answered, her eyes darkening with hate as the door swung open to reveal Lotor standing on the other side. His hands clasped behind his back.

"She lied to you." Something seemed to shift in Romelle's eyes as she withered slightly underneath Lotor's sympathetic gaze.

The legs of the metal chair scraped against the floor as Romelle shot up from her seat. Her brows pinched together as she glared at the Galra. "You lied to my people! You promised them a safe life; a life without fear and instead were harvesting quintessence from them!"

"I had no part in that." Lotor scowled as he stepped into the room. "That woman lied to you. She made you believe what she wanted you to believe; she coated her words in sugar and honey and unfortunately, you fell for her lies."

"Shut up!" Romelle growled out, her words reverberating around the interior of the room. "You're just lying!"

"He's not." Everyone shifted their gaze to Taylan who stood in the doorway of the room. "The Blade of Marmora and some of our people checked out that secondary colony that your brother was held in. That facility was made while Lotor was banished from the Galra empire—"

"—What are you saying?" Romelle questioned, intercepting Taylan's words.

"—Lotor never made that facility. Instead, we questioned a people from a planet within the quadrant and do you know what we discovered? They said they were paid to help build that colony you found. They were paid by a woman with red markings on her face."

Shock swept across Romelle's face, her eyes becoming glassy as she sunk down into her seat. She was breathing heavily, her entire frame shaking as tears dripped from the corner of her eyes. "You mean to tell me my brother died for nothing?" She whispered. "He died believing in lies?" She drew in a shuddering breath as the tears spilled faster down her cheek.

Without a single word, Lotor crossed the room, reaching out he rested a single hand on top of Romelle's shaking own. "Don't let his death be in vain. If you know anything that can be of help to us…" He let his words trail off an unsaid promise layered beneath it. A promise that if she helped, whatever punishment she was given would be less severe than what she could have potentially faced for remaining silent.

Taking a deep breath, Romelle lifted her head, her gaze shifting so that she was staring at Lance. "Your planet is in danger. I don't know what exactly Honerva was planning—" She sniffled, lifting a hand up to wipe away her tears. "—But she had her sights focused on Earth."

"Thank you," Lotor whispered to her, pulling his hand away as he motioned for Allura and Lance to follow him out of the room.

Lance was the last one out, pulling the door shut behind him as he walked into the room where the other Paladins and Lotor's generals were standing. In the other room, Taylan remained behind no doubt to talk a little bit more to Romelle as the Altean's were now in charge of whatever happened to the young girl. Lance breathed out a sigh of relief as the door softly clicked shut. "That's the first and last time I ever play the bad cop again."

"I think you did a wonderful job," Lotor told him with a flirtatious smirk upon his face, like he wasn't a man who was still recovering from being exposed to massive amounts of pure quintessence. Lotor reached out to grasp Lance's hand in his own, brushing his thumb against the thin skin of the Paladin's wrist just below his palm.

Lance couldn't help but crack a smile as Pidge pressed a hand to her throat and began to make obnoxious gagging sounds. She let out a shrill hey as Shiro's hand connected with the back of her head, sending her hopping forward as she flailed her arms to regain her balance.

It felt good to be back with his friends Lance decided as this tiny moment of merriment and laughter ended shortly. After all there always some part of the universe that needed to be saved. "Shiro," Keith glanced in the direction of the older Paladin. "What do we do now?"

Glancing around the room, Shiro blinked at the ragtag group that stood before him. Never in a million years would he thought he'd see the Paladins and Coran standing in the same room with Lotor and his generals. It brought a smile to his lips as he watched Keith reach out to scratch behind Kosmo's ear. Krolia glanced lovingly at her sound as Kosmo tipped his head back, his tail wagging with joy as Keith continued to scratch behind the appendage. In the corner, Ezor was laughing at Pidge's smaller stature compared to Zethrid. The Green Paladin's cheeks puffed out in frustration, giving Pidge the resemblance of a chipmunk as her cheeks reddened in frustration.

Taking a deep breath, Shiro bowed his head in thought. Lifting his head, his gaze swept around the room as the shadows of his face morphed, the muscles tightening as Shiro embraced his leadership role once more. "Everyone pack up your things. We're going home."


	20. Homebound

"How are we even going to get back to Earth!?" Pidge threw up her arms, the chair she was in spun around in small circles, making it difficult to take her seriously despite the direness of the situation. A week had passed since they interrogated Romelle; graciously, Taylan had allowed the Paladins to stay in an empty apartment-like space in a building they had just constructed within the colony. "There's barely enough juice in the Lions to get us back and even if we did it could take months! Maybe even years just to get back to Earth!" Seemingly satisfied that she had gotten everything out that she needed to say, Pidge crossed her arms in front of her as the chair she was in spun a little faster from the movement.

"My little sister has a point." Everyone turned their attention toward Matt; seated on a plush couch in the middle of the room, he'd arrive just a few hours earlier after Shiro had contacted him and briefed Matt on everything that had happened since they had last seen each other. The older Holt's eyes had widened in shock the moment he stepped out and observed the hidden Altean colony with his own eyes. "The distance between this colony and how fast your Lions can travel has such a large margin that it would be a one in a million chance of us getting back to Earth in a reasonable time. If we were to use Riemannian geometry to calculate—"

"Riemannian geometry?" Pidge snorted with laughter, rolling her eyes as if her brother had just suggested using statistics to solve the answer to a vector problem. "God it's a wonder you somehow managed to graduate high school. Need help learning trigonometry?"

Matt rolled his eyes, an exasperated look painted across his face as he slipped into a mindset of an older brother who'd had this battle a million times before. Leaning forward, Matt squinted his eyes at his little sister as he pointed at her with a single hand, his thumb curled inward to his palm. "Sick burn. How long did it take you to come up with that one?"

"As long as it took you to pass pre-calculus," Pidge replied with a satisfied smirk as she and Matt started to argue with one another, using terms and jargon that made the head of everyone else in the room spin.

Snorting to himself, Lance turned on his heels heading toward the balcony as everyone broke up for an impromptu break now that they were at an impasse. Lance slid his fingers around the handle of the sliding glass door, pulling against it, the door slid open, letting in a waft of cool breeze that caressed his skin. Stepping out onto the balcony, he pulled the door shut behind him and turned his head toward the lone figure resting out on the balcony. Lotor was draped over a curved chaise lounge, his hands casually folded over his stomach, his ankles crossed over one another and his face upturned to the warmth of the sun above him.

Cracking open a single eye, Lotor kept it trained on Lance as the Paladin made his way over to the lounge. The Paladin tapped the side of his boyfriend's leg with his hand, watching as the Galra's lips curved into a lazy smile. He scooted over on the lounge, creating enough space for Lance to curl his body beside Lotor's own. With a smile on his own lips, Lance allowed Lotor's fingers to wrap around his wrist and pull him down to the lounge where he curled up against Lotor's side. Resting his head on the smooth material of Lotor's underarmor that had been warmed up by the sunlight and Lotor's own naturally high body heat.

"What happened?" Lotor questioned as he wrapped his other arm around Lance's shoulder, pulling the smiling Paladin closer to his side.

"Matt and Pidge have started to roast each other. It's quite endearing really, but we still haven't found a solution to get back to Earth."'

Quirking a single brow, Lotor let his eyes slip shut as he questioned Lance. "Is that some sort of Earth custom that I won't be able to understand?"

A soft laugh rumbled its way out of Lance's throat. "I don't think anyone on Earth would be able to understand the words coming out of either of their mouths right now." They let silence fall over the both of them as they simply laid on that lounge together, enjoying the cool breeze and the sound of rustling grass.

"We need to talk," Lance spoke up after some time, slicing through the wonderful veil of silence that was draped over them. "About...everything that happened." Pushing out a deep sigh through his nose, Lotor jerked his head in agreement. "Why did you lie? Not only to me, but to my friends...to my _family_ ." Lance stressed the last word, the corner of his mouth wrinkling as his mind flooded with the vision of acceptance sweeping over Romelle's face as she accused him of having saved the Altean's all for an ulterior motive. "Why didn't you speak up when Romelle accused you?"

Taking a deep sigh, Lotor's eyes remained closed as he spoke up. "What would you have done, Lance, if you had been in your friends' positions? To suddenly have another living, breathing Altean stand before you accusing someone you thought of as an ally of the worst crimes known to the universe?" Sighing again, Lotor brought a hand up to his face to rub at the bridge of his nose. "You saw the look on Allura's face. Keith's as well. They trusted Romelle because what would she have gained from concocting such a lie? They trusted her because _she's_ an Altean."

Frowning at the bitterness in Lotor's words, Lance pushed himself into an upright position. His right hand resting against Lotor's chest as he stared down at the alien. "You're also Altean too."

" _Half Altean_." Lotor corrected him like a child upset that their parent forgot their birthday.

Lance blinked at Lotor's sudden shift in a mood. He'd seem fine since he'd woken up, jovial, even and that was saying a lot. Especially since the universe was still a mess and Lotor wasn't fully back to being his healthy, old self. "Lotor? Is something wrong? You've never let something like that get to you before."

Glancing away from Lance's face, there was a tightness that seemed to grip Lotor's face. Like there was a struggle for the words to come out of his throat; to explain whatever had overcome him when he and Lance were separated. "Do you know what I dreamt about when I was stuck in the rift?" He finally said after some time had passed; the sound of the rustling grass and leaves the only noise within that bubble of silence.

"Hopefully it was nothing but pleasant dreams about me?" A goofy grin stretched across Lance's face at the playful jest as Lotor's eyes slipped open. There was a tenderness in them as he reached up to cup Lance's cheek, his thumb stroking the soft skin beneath it.

"I had plenty of dreams about you," Lotor confirmed, his eyes darkening as the memories of his childhood clawed at his brain. "But a lot of them were about my childhood."

A soft "oh" escaped Lance's lips, his eyes narrowing with sympathy and shimmering with empathy as he knew how the rift would claw at your weakness, twist it if it needed to be twisted all so that you would remain there. A shiver ran up the length of his spine as he remembered how the rift tried to lull him in remaining with the promises of never having to feel pain or fear ever again.

The adam's apple of Lotor's throat bobbed as he swallowed tightly. "I dreamt of every beating I ever had to endure. Every moment my father would find to call me weak, a failure, a _mistake_." Eyes slipping shut, Lotor drew in a haggard breath as the sharp, sting of tears burned in the corners of his closed eyes. "I dreamt of every waking moment that I allowed myself to slip; allowed myself to truly believe my father's words that I had nothing but _tainted blood_. That my own mother gave me the same blood that made her weak and caused her death." His eyes snapped open, tears spilling freely from them as Lance watched them curve down his boyfriend's cheeks.

"Lotor," Lance whispered out his name as he leaned forward to wrap his arms around Lotor's head, pulling him in so that his lush, white locks became ruffled as Lance forced the Galra's head to rest against his chest. He could feel the tremors and hiccups of Lotor's body as he continued to cry.

" _I hated myself_." Forcing those words out through a hiccuping whisper, Lotor could feel Lance's arms tightening as the Paladin embraced him harder. "I believed everything my father told me and I tried to pretend that my Altean heritage didn't make me weak. It made me strong, but I—" He couldn't force the words to spill from his throat as Lance shushed him.

"What he did was wrong." Lance's breath caused locks of Lotor's hair to rustle. Anger coursed through the Paladin's veins as he wished that Red or even Blue had some hidden power that allowed him to resurrect Zarkon so that he could kill the former emperor with his bare hands for having made his only child suffer the way he did. "It was so wrong." He pulled away from his embrace with Lotor, brushing away the Galra's tears so that he could cup his face. "Hey, look at me," Lance suggested softly, smiling warmly as Lotor's eyes slipped open to stare at him. They were still wet with tears, but Lance felt his breath get caught in the hollow of his throat as he cursed the universe for still making Lotor look impeccably hot even while crying.

Shaking the thought out of his head, he focused intently on the other man. "You want to know what made me fall for you? It wasn't your impeccably good looks—" Lotor quirked a brow, causing Lance's cheeks to warm. "—ok part of it was definitely that, but the bulk of it was the fact that you're strong." With his thumb, he wiped away a stray tear that trailed down Lotor's cheek. "Despite everything you've been through, everything that had been said against you look how far you've gotten despite it. You're the emperor to the most powerful empire in the known universe and—" Lance winked at him, "—you have an incredibly handsome boyfriend by your side."

Cracking a smile at that, Lotor leaned into the warm touch of Lance's hands cupping his cheeks. Wordlessly, both of them reclined against the lounge, hushed whispers exchanged between them as Lotor and Lance talked. They talked about things that needed to be brought up, fears, disappointments, and on Lotor's part, everything he'd been thinking after Shiro's clone had kidnapped him.

"No more secrets?" Lance questioned, there was the hope of a promise branded into his words.

"I promise there will be no more secrets between us or the others," Lotor promised, pressing his own lips against Lance's own to symbolize the promise forged between them.

Smiling into the kiss, Lance whispered, "Good," as he wrapped his arms around Lotor's shoulders. Cocking his head to the side, he parted his lips allowing Lotor to slip his tongue into his mouth. He felt the soft touch of Lotor's hand against his hip, the Galra's thumb stroking the thick denim band of his jeans. Breathing softly through his nose, Lotor's tongue traced the warm cavern of Lance's mouth, causing the Paladin to moan with pleasure as the Galra's hand slipped further down his thigh, rubbing the flesh up and down in a manner that had lust pooling in the hollow of Lance's stomach; his toes curling with pleasure as Lotor twisted his own tongue around the Paladin's. Somehow drawing the both of them closer to one another. They were so caught up in just being with each other that neither of them heard the balcony door sliding open.

"Hey! Allura's calling another meeting—OH MY GOD!" Pulling apart from one another, Lance ignored the warmth of his kiss-swollen lips as his head whipped toward the direction of the noise. Pidge was standing halfway on the balcony, half of her body hidden inside of the apartment. Her hands were held over her eyes, blocking out her sight, like a teen who'd walked in on their parents fucking...without the sheets covering them.

"What's going on!?" Matt called out from the interior of the apartment.

"Lance and Lotor were getting freaky on the balcony!" Pidge yelled back to her brother who let out a shout of encouragement to the couple.

His cheeks burning from embarrassment, the skin darkening underneath the afternoon sun, Lance shot the Green Paladin a look that was equal parts exasperated older brother and equal parts plotting for a way to turn all of Pidge's laundry a singular color that she hated. "We were not!" He bit back; his cheeks burning a little harder as Pidge uncovered her eyes, rolled them and replied back with the same level of snark.

"Whatever you two gross canoodling beings say. Allura wants everyone to reconvene in the living room; she at least wants some inkling of a plan of how to get to Earth before we all hit the sack tonight."

"I think I might have a suggestion," Lotor spoke up, patting Lance's arm gently as he rose from the chair. Lance mimicked Lotor's actions, rising from the chair to follow him and Pidge into the interior of the apartment. Everyone had returned to the space, sitting on couches or chairs that had been dragged over. Lotor choosing to stand smiled at Lance as the Paladin plopped himself down on the only open spot on a couch. Throwing away any sense of finesse or build up, Lotor's gaze swept around the room as he opened his mouth to suggest whatever plan he'd come up with. "We have a team of Altean's open up a portal near Earth for us."

Laughter bubbled forth, cutting through the silence that followed after Lotor's insane plan. It caused everyone to swivel their gaze toward Coran who wiped the stray tears leaking from his eyes as his face turned a ruddy shade of beet red. He seemed to compose himself when he realized that Lotor hadn't cracked a joke, but was being serious. "Oh, you're serious?" Coran's eyebrows pinched together as he studied the Galran Emperor.

"I'm sorry—" Pidge cut in, her brows as pinched as Coran's own were, her mouth flattened out into a thin, tight line. "—but have you ever tested that ability before? Because we've all seen how much it takes out of Allura to open up a portal for the next quadrant, how is that going to affect a group of Alteans trying to deposit us light years away?"

"Well no," Lotor assented, "but it's the only option that any of us have been able to come up with during our duration here. Unless anyone has another idea they want to suggest?"

No one said anything; there was hardly even an audible breath that filled the void of silence.

"Well," Lotor breathed with finality like that of a man used to everything going his way. "It seems like we should prepare for the journey."

And they did just that, though the Paladins soon proved to be overwhelmed by the scope and sheer magnitude of preparations that were needed for the journey. There was a lot that needed to be done as Lance soon learned as he watched Lotor dressed yet again in his armor, facing a series of holographic screens as he addressed the far reaches of the Galra empire that their emperor was far from dead. His face tightening as he revealed to them all that the Alteans were alive, far from the lies that were written in the textbooks and history that was circulated amongst their society. How he hid the truth from them all because he was waiting for a time that was right, but there was no better time than now when their biggest threat had been one that had been lying amongst them all. Haggar, who had hid herself at his father's side, but in truth had been the pale fragment of the Empress Honerva that their very ancestors had wept for. Now, she wasn't an empress that deserved their mourning or tears, no she was a threat that Lotor had thought he had wiped out the moment his own father's blood coated his hands. Now, she was a threat not only to their empire but to all of the known universes.

Lotor had let his eyes slip shut as he let the direness of the situation drape over every single Galra that was listening to his speech. He needed them to understand the desperation of the situation. "Together," Lotor finally spoke up, his tongue darting between parted flesh to lick at dry lips. He could taste the tension in the room. "We can stand not just as an empire to stave off the threat that Haggar posses to the entire universe, but a coalition bent on peace that can change the tide."

A deafening cheer rose up from each holographic screen as generals and lieutenants alike pledged their loyalty to Lotor. Offering him whatever aide they could, whether that be assisting the Alteans or offering some of their own fleets to travel to Earth.

Nearly two weeks passed by in the blink of an eye until the Paladins were standing amongst that field of blooming flowers, surrounded by both Galras, Alteans, and various other alien lifeforms that formed the Coalition. Their Lions standing tall amongst the thousands of ships that rested on the widespread fields, casting long shadows over everything.

"I can't believe we're going home." Lance breathed out, his eyes staring out into the horizon as if he squinted hard enough he would be able to see Earth from where he stood. Instead, he ripped his gaze away from the empty, bright blue horizon and turned his attention to Keith who stood beside him.

"It nearly seemed like an impossible dream." Amusement coated Keith's words as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. A light breeze wafted over the field, rustling the slightly longer locks of Keith's hair. An agreeable silence settled between the both of them as if the very air sensed the shift in their relationship that had occurred over the last two weeks. In Lance's opinion, the both of them had grown closer, shedding away their one-sided rivalry to a begrudging sort of close friendship where Lance could gush about the adorable way that Lotor would wrinkle his nose when he was deep in concentration. Keith would let out a sound that he was half-paying attention to Lance's words as he rolled his eyes, a soft smile drifting across his face.

"I'm almost afraid that I'm going to wake up and Pidge is going to burst into my room and tell me that this was all a joke." Lance chuckled as his gaze drifted across the field to where Pidge and Matt were going over the final mathematical calculations with a group of Alteans.

"What are you going to do…" Keith paused as if he was selecting his words carefully. "...once this war is over?"

Eyes widening slightly in surprise, Lance pursed his lips slightly at Keith's words. He'd been so engrossed in everything regarding the war, regarding the Galra empire and the Alteans that he'd never given consideration to what would come...after. "I don't know," he replied truthfully after quite some time. "What about you?"

He turned his head to see that Keith's gaze was focused on Shiro, who in the distance had his hand raised slightly so that it was covering his mouth as he laughed at a joke that Allura was telling him. The small snippets they could hear of it were carried down to them by the wind. "I think I'll help my mom rebuild the house I grew up in. Maybe visit my dad's grave with her, beyond that I don't really know." He gave Lance a small shrug of his shoulders as he tore his away from Shiro, a fleeting look burning in his eyes that quickly disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.

Eyes narrowing as his brow quirked with realization, a small smirk stretched across the planes of Lance's face as Keith gave him an odd look. "What?" The half-Galran Paladin growled out, a ruddy color filling his cheeks as Lance just chose to keep quiet, letting the weight of Keith's secret weigh on his tongue before he swallowed it down.

It wasn't long before the Paladins were seated in the cockpit of their Lions. Taylan's voice filtering into their ears as he wished them luck on their journey. Their eyes were pinpointed to the sky as a glowing white fissure crackled in the air, before expanding into a large circle wide enough to fit several ships through all at once.

"It's time to go home, guys." Shiro's voice crackled through the Paladin's headsets, his voice thick with emotion that all of them could hear.

Lance swallowed the growing lump that was building in his throat as Red leaped into the air.

He was going home.

He was finally going home.

* * *

His stomach lurched slightly as the portal spat him out onto the other side. No matter how many times he'd gone through Allura's own, nothing could have prepared him for that one. Wrenching his eyes open, a pang of heartache bloomed in Lance's chest as he gazed down at the deep blue oceans covering Earth, half of the planet lit up with dazzling lights that shined brightly even as Red drifted past the wide, light brown coloration of Jupiter. In the distance, Earth called to them all like a beacon.

"Entering Earth's atmosphere is going to be a little shaky." Lance found the corners of his lips tightening at Pidge's words as he tried to urge Red to hold steady as they began the descent to Earth.

Lance could almost feel Red releasing a growl of protest as they broke through the Earth's thermosphere. A plume of heat and fire curled around the Lions and the ships that accompanied them as they breached the mesosphere.

"We just broke through the ozone layer." Pidge supplied as Red seemed to let out a frustrated growl that reverberated along the length of his bones.

As Red rapidly approached the surface, he seemed to land down on the hard packed dirt with a harshness that had Lance's teeth shaking in his skull. Behind him, Lotor cocked a single brow as he glanced at the same tone scene that stretched for miles before his eyes. "Is all of Earth….dreary like this?"

"No," Lance replied, quickly pushing himself up from his seat, eager to get out of Red and breathe in a lungful of Earth air to solidify the fact that he was home. _He was finally home._ "It's just how New Mexico looks." The Paladins rushed out of their lions as Coalition ships gently landed on the Earth around them. As if aware that their Paladins were no longer inside of them, the Lions shuddered as they slumped to the ground. Lions that had protected and preserved their keepers for so long on nothing more than already burnt fuel. "You did good, Red." There was a warmth to Lance's voice as he patted Red's nose for a job well done. "I'll make sure you get enough rest soon."

"I think getting rest won't be our biggest concern soon." Hunk shouted at the other Paladins as he pointed to a burgeoning trail of dust growing in the distance. The dust gave way to a multitude of vehicles, all bearing the Garrison's logo on them.

With a sigh, Lance turned his head toward Lotor, a tired smile already whitling at his features. "I guess this is our welcome to Earth."

* * *

Once the Garrison vehicles had surrounded them, Shiro had taken control of the situation as best as he could. Persuading the Garrison members that they all came in peace, much to the shock of their faces as they realized they were staring at members of the Garrison that had been missing for over two years. They were packed off and taken to the military building where they'd all been separated for medical examinations. Much to the worry of Allura, Coran, Lotor, and about every alien that had made the journey with them who were uncertain of how the humans would react to them.

The human Paladins had spent much of their time attempting to placate everyone as best as they could. Promising their non-human counterparts that they wouldn't be harmed.

Lance had been prodded and poked by a multitude of scientists and doctors who all seemingly had questions slathered across their faces as they wondered just how a bunch of Earthlings had managed to survive in space for so long, only to come back piloting giant space cats. After whatever tests they had wanted to subject him to, Lance finally found himself resting in a hospital bed.

A blue hospital gown was draped over his body as he stared out the windows that took up a corner of the oak-paneled room. He couldn't shake the disbelief that seemed to cling to him that he was back on Earth.

A few hours seemed to past as he simply took the time to rest before he heard someone shouting his name as he began to doze off for a light nap. "Lance!" Jolting awake, Lance was surprised to find the door to the hospital room sliding open as his mother rushed into the room. Trailing behind her were several of his family members. Her skin was far lighter than his own, the thick, dark curls of her dark brown hair bouncing against her back as she all but threw herself upon Lance's bed and wrapped her arms around his chest so tightly that Lance struggled to pull in a breath.

" _Tía_ ," Lance spied his cousin Rachel grinning smugly in the corner of the room. "I think you need to let Lance go so he can breathe."

At her words, his mother loosened her hold around his chest. He could feel damp spots spreading across the front of his gown as his mother lifted her head, tears trailing from the corner of her eyes down her cheeks. "I thought I'd never see you again," her voice was a harsh whisper as she kept her head bowed to let the tears slip from her eyes.

The time he spent with his family made his stay pass by in the blink of an eye. Though he was mostly kept from his friends for the sake of some pseudo quarantine, the time he spent with his family helped ground him and help reacclimate him to Earth. Though that didn't prevent Pidge from sneaking into his room, every so often that she could, despite the fact that there was a nurse hot on her heels. She told him about Allura designing a prosthetic replacement for Shiro's missing arm. "It's so cool!" She had crooned. "I wonder if Allura will let me see the schematics she came up with. You have to see Shiro's new arm when you get a chance!"

Surprisingly after nearly a week, Lance and the Paladins were given the green light that their quarantine was lifted. Allowing them the ease of visiting each other without nurses or doctors hawkishly watching over them.

Lance visited Shiro's room, eager to see his new arm that Pidge kept gushing over. And he had to admit, it was pretty cool. The exterior of Shiro's new arm was bone white, with the interior a cool, matte black that Lance had run the tips of his fingers over. The texture reminding him of the surface of a rubber mat. At the sensation of his touch, Shiro had wrinkled his nose slightly. "I'm still not used that," he'd muttered offhandedly.

His words caused a brow on Lance's forehead to raise. "You can feel that?" Shiro nodded.

"It's the wonders of Altean technology."

Lance had let out a low whistle at that, but a quick glance at the clock in Shiro's room had him rising out of his seat as he promised the man that he'd be back sometime tomorrow to hang out with him.

Lance made his way to the door and slid it open, only to jerk back in surprise when he found a man standing in the doorway. There was a shared look of surprise warping his hazelnut colored features and caused the corner of his eyes to wrinkle slightly beneath his grey, half-frame, cat eye glasses. His eyes flickered over to where Shiro was propped up in his bed. "Is this a bad time?" There was a warmth in his voice that was honeyed with familiarity; it caused a variety of questions to weigh down the tip of Lance's tongue as he turned his gaze towards Shiro's direction.

The older Paladin merely shook his head. "Lance was just leaving."

"Right," Lance pronounced the word slowly as if he was saying the word for the first time in his life. "I'll see you later, Shiro." Lance gave a cursory nod at the man blocking his path, who did the same as he turned his body so that Lance could slide out into the hallway.

With a raised brow, when Lance was halfway down the hall, he cast a glance over his shoulder to see the man enter Shiro's room, closing the door behind him.

It took a few days before Lance was able to see Lotor. Walking towards Lotor's room, he was surprised to see doctors streaming in and out through the door. Shock could barely describe the way Lance's eyes widened as he entered Lotor's room to find dozens of doctor's crowded in the spacious area. There were several machines hooked up to Lotor's skin, beeping incessantly as doctors scribbled notes onto the charts in their hand. Sinking his teeth into his lower lip, the flesh curled inward to Lance's mouth as he kept himself from snickering at the site of the bored look upon Lotor's face as a nurse attempted to pull blood out from the Galra's arm. At the sound, Lotor turned his head, his face lighting up at the sight of his lover.

Raising a fist to his mouth, Lance cleared his throat as his gaze swept around the room. "Could we have a moment alone please?" With some reluctance, the doctor's began to clear out, though one of them attempted to approach Lotor, with the Galran emperor shooting them a withering gaze that had them shrinking in fear and skittering out of the room faster than the rabbits found on the Jungle Planet.

Lotor let out a huff of annoyance as Lance walked over to the bed and plopped down beside him. "I was expecting when we came here to immediately meet with Earth's military commanders in order to discuss our plans. Being subjugated to medical tests was not what I had planned on occurring."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Lance leaned closer to Lotor, letting his head rest on the Galra's shoulder. "When humans don't understand something, we tend to research it."

With a roll of his eyes, Lotor pressed his right cheek against the top of Lance's hair, breathing in the floral scent of the shampoo he had used earlier today. "I'm simply glad that we won't have to deal with all of these tests and annoyances tomorrow." Right, they were all being released tomorrow.

With a reluctant sigh, Lance hummed to himself. "Well, I enjoyed my mini vacation while it lasted."

Lotor reached out, grasping Lance's hand in his own, he brought it up to his mouth to kiss at the Paladin's fingertips, before slipping his fingers through the gaps of Lance's hand. "What do you say you and I go on a vacation after all of this is done? Somewhere nice, with only the two of us."

Elation lit up Lance's face at Lotor's suggestion. "That would be nice, I could finally show you all the staples of Earth. The beach, greasy fast food, and amusement parks."

"I look forward to that." Lotor hummed as he leaned in closer to Lance to press a kiss against his temple.

The next day, all of the Paladins including Lotor, Matt, Allura, Coran, and Krolia were standing in the main lobby of the medical wing of the Garrison, just waiting on the last vestiges of government bureaucracy that needed to be signed off on in order for them all to leave.

"Gonzalez!" A booming voice had Keith's brows wrinkling at his last name. "Holts!" Both Matt and Pidge narrowed their eyes at the sound of the voice, turning just in time to see Commander Iverson stalking over toward their direction. "Basurto!" Lance's spine went rigid as the Commander fixed an intense stare on him. "Ala'alatoa!" Hunk looked like he was ready to faint. The Commander pointed a single finger in their direction as he stalked closer to them. "I would make you all run so many laps that you drop, but—" he paused, the burning inferno of fury that blazed in his eyes, dying down as he pulled all of them into an embrace. "I'm just glad you knuckleheads are back on Earth."

The whole room became awash in flashing red lights as a disembodied voice blared through the room. "Warning. Imminent alien threat approaches." The Paladins' spine stiffened as Shiro ordered everyone to their lions, he turned on his heels to face Allura, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something to her. She simply shook her head. "Go, I'll support you from the ground however I can." With a nod, Shiro took off along with the other Paladins; their Lions had been stored in a hangar after the Garrison had taken the effort of finding several vehicles that could safely drag the several ton robotic Lions from the desert to the military facility.

It didn't take them long to find the hangar, with Shiro climbing into Black and Lance and Keith returning to Blue and Red respectively, they all shout out of the hangar and into the open air. Hurtling through the sky was a gigantic white robot, in both of its hands were silver swords, in the middle of which glowed a bright purple.

"What the hell is that!?" Pidge shouted over her communication device.

"I don't know," there was a thread of wariness in Shiro's voice, "but we're going to find out, soon enough. Everyone be on your guard."

It was a tough battle, one that left the Paladins with several bruises, knicks, and scrapes, but the mecha they fought was lying still along the desert sands, amongst all the cacti and rocks. The Paladins climbed out of their Lions, carefully approaching the powered off mecha. As they approached, a loud hiss pierced through the quite; smoke billowed from the mecha's cockpit, the glass raising to reveal a slim, woman lying still in the pilot's seat. They drew closer, a gasp wrenching itself from Pidge's lips as they all stared at the red markings marring the woman's cheeks. "She's an Altean."

It was a whirlwind after that with the Garrison showing up to collect the young woman and drag her off for medical attention and monitoring. Lance didn't know how Pidge managed to do it, but she managed to charm her way into the good graces of the Garrison commanders, who gave her access to tap into the data feed of the mecha they were transporting. Pidge sat at a terminal, her fingers flying over the keys as Matt copied her movements right beside her. Their brows were furrowed in concentration as streams of data fly across the screens in front of them.

"Woah," Pidge uttered the word breathlessly as the stream of data began to slow down on the screen. Turning her head toward her brother, Pidge nudged his leg with her foot. "Are you seeing this?"

"What's going on?" Shiro questioned, leaning forward to squint his eyes at the holographic screen.

"That mech," Pidge began to explain, "had a bunch of data loaded into it. Orders to find us and kill us, you know the usual stuff that we have to deal with daily, but it also information about a large fleet of ships heading toward Earth."

Through clenched teeth, Lotor spat out, "That has to be the witch."

"Pidge, how long do we have?" Pidge turned her gaze toward Shiro.

"About a month at best."

With a sigh, Shiro crossed his arms in front of his chest. Contemplation painting itself across his face, a few seconds passed, before his eyes snapped open and he stared at everyone around him. "I want all of you to rest up, take the time to relax. We only have a month before Haggar comes to Earth and we're all going to need to prepare for that."

With that everyone dispersed and half an hour later, Lance found himself walking down the street with Lotor beside him. There was a duffel bag weighing down Lance's shoulder, that was full of personal mementos and clothes that he shoved into it. Everything else he left back on Blue, making a mental note to come back later in order to retrieve her. After much reluctance and nagging on Lance's part, some members of the Garrison were reluctantly taking care of Kattlenecker until Lance came back to the facility to retrieve both his Lion and pet.

For the Paladin and the Galra, the two had already bid farewells to Hunk and his mother, who had agreed to shelter Allura and Coran beneath their roof. Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid had bid Lotor farewell, there was still some tension between all of them that needed to be addressed. Something that had been tossed up into the air with an unspoken agreement that it would be, before the generals boarded Red, where Keith and his mother would watch over them, as Krolia, despite being a Galra, had experience and knowledge with Earth culture and was willing to help the other Galran women become acclimated to it.

Some blocks away from the Garrison, Lance spotted a familiar broad figure near the entrance of the subway. Narrowing his eyes, the Paladin lifted an arm and waved it in the direction of the figure who turned as the hazelnut skinned man that Lance had seen some days earlier mumbled something to Shiro that Lance couldn't catch.

Shiro, in turn, said something back, before turning in Lance's direction and jogging his way across the street, away from the car he'd been leaning against. "Lance. Lotor." A smile lit up Shiro's face as both of them looked pleasantly surprised to see the older Paladin. "Going home?" Shiro questioned as he glanced at the duffle bag draped over Lance's shoulder.

"Yea," Lance nodded, "just taking the subway back. Decided to show Lotor the wonderful marvels of human transportation. What about you though, are you heading back home with—" Lance let the question trail off into silence, his eyes darting between Shiro and the hazelnut skinned man with a glimmer of understanding.

Eyebrows rising in understanding, Shiro glanced at Lotor. "Do you mind giving the two of us a moment?"

The Galra merely raised his own brow in confusion, before stalking off into the distance, leaving Lance and Shiro with enough room that the two could talk in silence on the slightly empty street. A few stray souls coming and going from the Garrison. "I'm going back to Japan, to see my parents and a bunch of family I haven't seen in years," Shiro responded to Lance's question.

"With—?" Lance's eyes darted to the man that accompanied Shiro.

"Adam." Shiro's eyes followed Lance's gaze, before coming back to the Paladin. "My ex."

"Oh," Lance sucked in a breath of shock and realization.

Shiro just simply shook his head, a wry yet pained smile stretching across his features. "It's water underneath the bridge."

"I didn't know."

"Not too many people did. Adam's just accompanying me to the airport...there's a lot of things that were left unsaid between us before I left for the Kerberos mission; a lot of things that we still need to talk about."

"Shiro!" Shiro and Lance turned their gazes toward Adam who had shouted Shiro's name and made a tapping gesture against the watch that adorned his wrist.

"I have to go, but—" Shiro lifted his new arm and pressed his hand against Lance's shoulder, giving it a little squeeze, "—if you need anything, just give me a call."

"You too," Lance replied as Shiro pulled him into a hug, released him, and ran toward the direction of Adam's car. Lance watched the car start up and drive down the street until it disappeared from his view. With the car gone, Lance turned toward Lotor and motioned for the Galra to accompany him down into the subway. The Paladin couldn't help but snicker at the look of wonder on the Galra's face as he took in the bright, clean colors of the subway, the crowded people who all stared at him with confusion and bewilderment in their eyes.

"This all seems so...primitive." Lotor couldn't help but comment as Lance tapped his train card against the scanner twice, causing the gate that lead to the trains to blink green as the holographic field that hovered at his waist disappeared. Allowing both Lance and Lotor access to the main part of the building that lead to all of the trains.

Lance couldn't help but laugh as their train pulled up. "You sound so disappointed." He stepped on, with Lotor following closely behind him. The train was crowded, people packed together and the seats were taken up. Lance stood in the middle of the train and directed Lotor to hold onto the straps that hung down from the ceiling, though with the Galra's rather tall height he didn't need it. The train lurched forward, causing Lance to awkwardly tumble into Lotor, his hand pressed tight against the fabric of his duffle bag. Moving one of his hands to press gently against the Paladin's back, steadying him amongst the train crowded full of people who awkwardly fought for the little bit of space that they could. Lotor hummed to himself as he peered down into Lance's eyes.

"Though it seems that there are some benefits to this means of transportation."

The Paladin's cheeks pinkened as snatches of conversation from a group of women who were seated just behind him reached his ears.

"Is that cosplay?"

"That has to be a costume right?"

"I don't care what he's wearing, he could bend me over a table anytime."

Lance's eyes widened at the nature of the conversation, his eyes flickering up and down the train to notice that a bunch of people were staring at Lotor. Half of them with stares that looked like they were trying to strip Lotor of his armor on this train, straining to see what was beneath it. Jealousy flared inside of Lance's chest, the train screeched to a halt in front of one of its multiple stops. The Paladin wrapped his hand around Lotor's wrist half-dragging the Galra out of the train and onto the less crowded platform.

With a raise of his brows, Lotor questioned his lover as the shorter of the two proceeded to drag Lotor to a row of shops that were housed within the station. They passed by a bakery, a shop that sold sweets, and various others before Lance dragged him into one that sold clothing.

Releasing his grasp on Lotor's wrist, Lance fluttered around the shop with ease that Lotor surmised came from the Paladin finding comfort in a situation that he was well familiar with. Lotor merely watched the Paladin pull clothes from off the racks, eye them quickly and either toss them back from where he pulled them or tossed them over his shoulder. In the span of a few minutes, Lance had amassed a good deal of clothing, before waddling over to where Lotor stood and thrusting the numerous amount of articles into the Galra's arms. He directed Lotor to a set of changing rooms and ushered the alien in with a promise that he'd been standing right outside the doors.

Lance had to suck in an incredulous breath when Lotor stepped out of the dressing room, sporting a pair of ripped black jeans that highlighted the length of the alien's legs. A grin stretched across Lance's lips as he spotted the shirt that Lotor wore; it had black sleeves, and a black bucket printed across the chest of the shirt, that spilled out black ink and stars that made Lance think of the serene darkness of space.

He hated how hot Lotor could look in anything, even if he was wearing a potato sack, he'd still somehow look amazing in it. Lance paid for the outfit, a tote bag weighed down with Lotor's armor and undersuit resting in Lotor's hand. They hopped back on the train, taking the hour-long journey toward Lance's home.

It was a quaint house, a three-story wooden building, with enough windows that it got a good amount of sunlight. The exterior was painted the color of sea foam, and there was a good amount of yard space that had enough room for Lance's niece, nephew, and the family dog to run around in.

Pulling open the gate, Lance ushered Lotor in, the two of them climbing up the steps to the wrap around porch. Digging in his pockets for his house key, Lance pulled it out, sliding the metallic object into the lock of the door. He twisted it, hearing the satisfying clicks of the door unlocking as he pushed it open.

"Lance?" A woman's voice called out at the sound of the door swinging open. Lance's mother appeared from the kitchen, wringing her hands on a light blue dish towel. "Lance!" His mother tossed the dish towel over her shoulder, shuffling toward her son in her indoor slippers.

She pulled Lance into a hug once she reached him, pressing kisses rapidly to both of his cheeks as Lance let his duffle bag slip down his shoulder. She stopped when she finally noticed Lotor, her eyes widening with surprise as she pressed her hands against her son's cheeks. "Lance, who is this?"

Reaching up, Lance grasped his mother's hands in between his own and pulled them slowly from his cheeks. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we talk in the kitchen?"

With a raise of her brow, she nodded, turning she walked back into the kitchen. Lance told Lotor to make himself at home, and walked toward the kitchen, but stopped when he noticed the table next to the hallway contained a variety of pictures ranging from his childhood to the last few years that were all photos of him. Surrounding the photos were a few candles that had little more than half of the wax in them, plastered onto the front of the glass candles were a variety of Catholic saints. The knot in his throat bobbed, as he wrenched his gaze away from the makeshift shrine and headed into the kitchen.

His mother, not quite understanding what her son needed to talk to her about, poked her head out of the kitchen and glanced at Lotor was staring at a series of Basurto family photos on the wall. "Does he understand Spanish?" She harshly whispered to her son, causing the Paladin to turn toward Lotor.

" _Lotor, ¿entiendes español?_ " Lotor blinked at the unfamiliar combination of vowels and sounds, his brows wrinkling in confusion as he tore his gaze away from the photos and stared at Lance. The Paladin couldn't help but smile and head into the kitchen with his mother. Missing the opportunity to see the faint tugs of a smile on Lotor's face as the familiar glint of understanding and comprehension burned in his eyes.

In the kitchen, Lance leaned against the island, his mother standing closer toward the stove. The joy upon her face was marred with disappointment and bitter sadness as she glared at her son. Rapid-fire Spanish rolled off of her tongue as she lashed out at him with a verbal whip that all mothers seemed to possess. _"Do you know how scared I was when the Garrison told me that you disappeared!? No note, no phone call for months until Sam Holt showed up here with a video message from you! With you telling me that you ran off into space with your friends to fight in some war! A war!?"_

 _"Mom, I'm sorry,"_ Lance replied back, the smooth rumble of syllables and vowels falling from his tongue. _"It just all happened so fast, but I'm really sorry for making you worry. "_

Tears shimmered in his mother's eyes, stubbornly she dabbed at them with the tips of her fingers until her eyes were clear enough to give a smoldering glare at her son. Her eyes flickered to the archway that lead out from the kitchen to the living room, then back to Lance. _"Who is he?"_

Lance tensed up at the question, knowing fully well who his mother was referring to. Tearing his gaze away from his mother, Lance focused on the crude, childish drawing that was pinned onto the fridge. It was a drawing his nephew had done, a purple sun burning amongst blue clouds, and a field of green. On it was a row of stick figures that represented his family. Some silence passed between the two of them; Lance took a deep breath, summoning the courage he desperately needed to fill his chest as he let his words tumble slowly from his mouth with a hushed whisper. _"Mom, he's my...boyfriend."_

 _"What?"_ His mother's brows pressed together, her eyes widening slightly as she pressed a single hand against her chest.

Lance's fingers were shaking slightly as he forced the next set of words out of his mouth. A secret that he had kept to himself for a long time, a secret that he has pushed to the back of his mind and didn't want to acknowledge until now. _"Mom….I'm bisexual."_

His mother's eyes narrowed as she sucked in air through her teeth, reaching down she pulled a slipper off of her foot and held it up in the air like it was a weapon. Lance squeezed his eyes shut as his mother let the air out through her teeth and dropped the slipper on the floor. _"You were going to give me a heart attack."_ His mother admonished him, forcing Lance's eyes to part open. She picked up her slipper again and held it out threateningly toward him, bringing the slipper swinging down, she smacked the leather against his arm. It caused Lance to yelp more in surprise than pain.

 _"What was that for!?"_ Lance rubbed absentmindedly at his arm.

 _"You looked like you were afraid I was going to toss you out on the street!" His mother's brows furrowed in anger. "You know I raised you so that no matter what you could come to me or your dad and talk about anything ." She sighed, dropping her slipper back onto the floor once more. "You know I'm going to love you Lance, no matter who you end up with. Though—"_ She raised her brows, _"You couldn't stay on Earth and find a nice boy? You had to run all the way out into space for that and leave your poor mom to nearly have a heart attack?"_ A small smile inched its way across her face as she playfully smacked her son's arm and told him to run upstairs; that dinner wouldn't be ready for a few more hours.

Lance made his way back into the living room, a soft, "hey," falling from his lips, earning him Lotor's attention. Grabbing his duffle bag, Lance dragged Lotor out into the hallway and up the steps, leading the Galra to his bedroom.

Pushing open the door, Lotor took in the small bed, the variety of posters adorning the walls and the cluster of other objects in the room that just seemed to scream "Lance."

"Welcome to my bedroom," Lance swept his arm out with a mock flourish as he tossed his duffle bag down onto the floor. "Make yourself at home. I'm going to go take a shower."

Leaving Lotor in his bedroom, Lance headed to the bathroom. Twisting the knobs until a stream of water gushed out of the showerhead, quickly filling the tiled room in a plume of warm steam. Quickly stripping off his clothes, Lance stepped into the shower, ducking his head under the stream of hot water. Bliss seeped into his bones as the water trailed down his skin, over smooth flesh, that quickly gave away to scarred and raised skin. Relishing in the warmth of the water, Lance stood underneath the spray of the shower, washing quickly with whatever soap was available in the bathroom.

Stepping out of the shower, nearly half an hour later, the Paladin returned to his bedroom where Lotor rose from his bed at the site of Lance dressed in a set of sweat pants and a loose shirt. Water dripping from his still wet hair. Reaching out, Lotor tangled his fingers in the wet strands, pulling Lance close so that their bodies were pressed together. Pressing his nose against Lance's temple, the Galra drew in a deep breath of the citrusy soap that Lance had used. "You smell terrific." Lotor's breath rustled Lance's hair as they stood in that position for quite some time.

The spell between them was broken when Lance pulled his head away from Lotor's chest and stared up into his eyes. "I think we should talk."

Leading Lotor to his bed, the two of them sank down into it. With Lotor lying flat against the sheets, his feet dangling off the edge of the bed and Lance's head pressed against his chest. Soft strokes pressed against Lance's head as Lotor dragged his fingers through brown locks. "You know," Lotor began, his eyes staring aimlessly at the ceiling above him. "When I was in the rift, all I dreamt about was you; how much I hurt you; how much I missed you."

"I hurt you too y'know," Lance whispered, "when I didn't stick up for you; when I knew that Romelle's words just didn't seem true."

"You shouldn't blame yourself for that," Lotor countered, "she had everyone fooled."

"But part of me still couldn't help but question it; what if she was true? What if you'd been lying to everyone... _to me_."

A dark, yet pained look flashed in Lotor's eyes. "I had my own secrets to keep."

"I get that," Lance sighed, "I really do, but there has to be a point where you feel like you can trust me or the other Paladin's enough to share some of those secrets with. Or even Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor too." He pointed out. "You don't have to share your burdens alone."

Lotor closed his eyes, shutting himself off from Lance's gaze as the cold grips of memory wrapped in a warning pried at his skin. _Trust no one_. His father's voice rattled in his head.

The soft touch of fingertips against his cheek had Lotor's eyes snapping open to Lance hovering above him.

"You know how difficult it is for me to trust anyone," Lotor whispered as if he was afraid of the sound of his own voice.

"I know," Lance whispered back. "But it doesn't hurt to try."

"I'll try," Lotor mumbled, turning his head so that Lance's fingertips were pressed against the soft mounds of his lips. "I'll try." There was a heat to his words that had Lance gripping his chin, turning the Galra's head so that he was forced to stare directly into the human's eyes.

"I know you will," the whisper fell from Lance's lips as he leaned down to capture Lotor's lips in a kiss. Something fizzled between the two of them, a spark created by waves of emotion, promises, and unspoken words. Neither of them needed to say anything for them to understand it, they just did.

It was a promise that they'd be better. A promise that was sealed with Lance parting Lotor's lips with his tongue, letting the pink organ slide between a pair of lips and into the warm cavern of his mouth. It was a promise that they'd be the solitary rocks to at the other's side. Lotor groaned into the kiss, leaning up as Lance pulled back, their mouths still connected as the Galra's own tongue curled around Lance's own. His cock throbbing in his tight jeans as all the nerves on his body slowly started to wake up. It was a promise of unbridled trust; no matter what, no matter what came between them they would trust one another.

Lotor paused in the kiss, pulling away from Lance. Their tongues darted out to lick at kiss swollen flesh. Pressing his forehead against Lance's own, a whisper pulled itself from Lotor's throat. "Are you sure you want to do this?" His eyes were half-lidded with desire, a heat wrapped around his words that left Lance with a shiver up his spine. He knew what Lotor was asking him, from the way the Galra's fingers skittered against the waist of his pants.

Lotor wasn't going to stop at just a simple blowjob.

Not this time.

Brows furrowing in determination, Lance nodded. "Yes."

"Good," Lotor simply responded, before flipping Lance over so that his back was pressed against the sheets, his head resting against the pile of pillows.

Curling his fingers into the hem of Lance's pants, Lotor tugged them down along with Lance's boxers, revealing his half-hard cock. Wordlessly Lotor wrapped his fingers around it, opening his mouth slightly so that a puff of air pushed its way out of his mouth and caressed the head of Lance's cock. The appendage twitched in the Galra's hand, a clear bead of pre-cum glittered on the head of Lance's cock. With the soft pad of his tongue, Lotor licked it up, his tongue tracing circles around Lance's head.

A sigh fell from Lance's lips as he pressed his head firmly into the pillows beneath him. Lotor's lips wrapped firmly around the head of Lance's cock, causing a choked, yet breathless moan to fall from the human's lips.

Lotor suckled at the tip of the flesh, his actions spurred on by the hand that had tangled itself in his hair. The other hand was currently twisting handfuls of the bedsheet in between its fingers. Sinking his lips down the length of the flesh, Lotor bobbed his head up and down as the cock in his mouth filled with blood, growing more rigid than it had a few moments before. "Lotor." Lance choked out in between moans, his eyes squeezed shut as he felt Lotor smile around the mouthful of dick he was currently sucking on.

His eyes fluttered open when he felt Lotor tap the side of his ribcage like he was requesting that Lance have his eyes open for whatever he planned next. Obliging his request, Lance propped himself up on shaky elbows, staring down at a scene that he wished to burn into his memory forever.

Stray locks of hair hung loosely in Lotor's face, there was a faint blush that dusted his cheeks, that seemed to juxtapose the heat that burned in his eyes as he glanced up at Lance. The corner of his lip tugged into a cocky smirk as he let his lips slide down lower and lower on Lance's length…

* * *

Downstairs in the kitchen, Lance's mom hummed silently to herself as she leaned forward. The smell of spices filling the kitchen. She brought the wooden spoon up to her mouth, liquid sloshing in it as the pot below her bubbled.

 _"Alabao!"_

The sharp yell, caused her to drop the spoon in fright, her cheeks darkening as she cast a glance up at the ceiling above her. Wordlessly, she walked toward the kitchen island, grabbed the remote from off of it and turned on the tv, making sure to turn the volume on it loud enough that it could drown out any sound that threatened to roll itself down the steps.

* * *

Lance was shaking as he felt Lotor's throat constricting around the head of his cock. His mouth so hot and wet that Lance swore stars were dancing in the corner of his vision. His whole body was shaking as he tried to keep the threat of an orgasm at bay. A whine rumbled in his throat as he tugged at locks of Lotor's hair, getting the alien to pull his mouth off of his dick. Strands of saliva connected Lotor's lips to Lance's appendage in such an obscene and filthy manner that Lance squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Lotor's fingers trailing against his sides until he felt his lover's fingers still and the tense of his spine.

"If you don't want me to remove this then I won't." Lotor jerked his chin at the thin shirt Lance was wearing, prompting the Paladin to open his eyes as he shook his head.

"If I've seen your scars you deserve to see mine." Brushing Lotor's hands away from his sides, Lance curled his fingers beneath his shirt, lifting it up and off, only to toss it to the side of the bed.

Wordlessly, Lotor let his eyes travel over Lance's skin, taking in smooth, unblemished flesh. Reaching out, he wrapped his fingers around Lance's arm and turned him so that Lance's torso twisted just enough that Lotor could see the scarred skin on his back. There was a patchwork of skin there that was dark and warped, like someone had taken a cigarette and pressed it against the flesh, only to wait for it to heal just so that they could repeat the process again. Gingerly, Lotor reached out, pressing the tip of his finger against one of the scars as his eyes flickered to Lance's face. "Does it hurt?"

"No," Lance replied truthfully as Lotor traced his fingertips from one scar to the other. He pulled his fingertip away, only to replace his gentle touch with butterfly kisses against Lance's back.

"I'm glad I killed that bastard." Lance knew who Lotor was referring to. "Part of me wishes I kept him alive long enough so that I could see his disgusting face contort with pain as I had Zethrid break his limbs one by one."

"As much as I enjoy your dirty talk in bed," Lance huffed, "I'd rather talk about things that are far more appealing than how you want to kill and maim someone who is already dead."

"Then—" Lotor huffed as he nipped at Lance's chin with his teeth, "—would you prefer I tell you all the ways that I'll take you?" There was a seductive purr to his words. "How much I desire to suck you off until you're a whimpering mess beneath me?" His lips brushed against Lance's jaw, his lips hovering near Lance's ear. "Or would you rather have me bent over this bed so that you can take me for yourself?"

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Lance's eyes went wide like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. His tongue darted out between suddenly dry lips. "I'm going to have to hold you on that offer, later. But right now I'd rather you fuck me." That caused a dark chuckle to rumble in the hollow of Lotor's throat.

"Oh, Lance," he sighed like he was scolding the Paladin. There was a dark, hungry look in his eyes. "I'm not just going to fuck you. _I'm going to ravage you._ " There was a particular purr to his words that had Lance shivering as Lotor kissed him hard enough to bruise him.

Groaning, Lance pulled away from the kiss to quickly toss his pants and boxers off of him, hopping up from the bed, he rushed to his duffle bag and rifled through it. Pulling out a bottle of lube that had Lotor's brow cocked in a silent question. "I bought it when you weren't looking," Lance supplied him with an explanation. He tossed it toward Lotor, who caught it with ease. Walking back over to the bed, Lance watched the Galra shuck his clothes off of his body, with the lithe of a predator that knew it had its prey laid out before it. Crooking a finger in Lance's direction, the Paladin merely smirked as he draped himself over Lotor's lap, his cheek resting against the cool fabric of the pillows. He heard the cap to the lube pop open and tensed slightly when he felt cold fingers spreading his ass cheeks apart.

A breath wormed it's way out of his throat as Lotor pressed an index finger against his hole, the slight pressure allowing the finger to penetrate him. The Galra let the finger slowly slide in, allowing Lance to become used to the strange sensation inside of him.

He groaned as Lotor quickly added a second and a third finger as he set a slow languid pace; thrusting his fingers in and out of Lance's ass.

It was slow.

It was tender.

It was everything Lance would have wanted on a different occasion. Instead, he huffed, with a quirk of his brow. "I thought you were going to ravage me?" His words tasted like a challenge, one that had Lotor thrusting his fingers in and out of Lance, leaving him a breathless mess as Lotor twisted his fingers and slammed them back in, leaving stars to dance in the corners of the Paladin's eyes. Wrenching his fingers out, Lance felt Lotor slip from underneath him to position himself behind him. Without any warning, he felt Lotor thrusting his member into him, leaving a trail of burning ache to course through him.

That's what he needed.

That's what the both of them needed. A cry wrenched itself from Lance's throat as Lotor set a brutal, frantic pace in the way his hips snapped and smacked against the rounded flesh of Lance's ass. His hands were pressed on either side of Lance's frame as he snapped his hip forward, the girth of his cock making Lance feel full as the slight burn in his ass dissipated into pleasure. Moans spilled past his lips as he shuddered, feeling the weight of fingers pressing against the plump, swollen flesh of his lower lip. His tongue darted out like an invitation as Lotor pressed his fingers against Lance's tongue, the Paladin's flesh licking and suckling against the digits. His moans vibrating against the fingers as the tip of Lotor's cock slammed into his prostate over and over.

Lance's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head as Lotor let out an animalistic growl, gripping his left elbow, he drew Lance up into a position where he was kneeling on his bed. His cock bobbing in the cool air of his bedroom as Lotor fucked the breath out of him. Tears of pleasure prickled in the corners of his eyes as Lotor slammed into him over and over again like a man who'd just discovered the pleasures of sex for the first time. The bed shook and squeaked beneath them; groaning wildly as if the combination of wood and other materials were threatening to give out and collapse beneath them.

The Galra growled, leaning forward to sink his fangs into the bare skin of Lance's shoulder. The prickle of fangs against his skin, the slight pain mixed with the pleasure had Lance gasping, squeezing his eyes shut as his orgasm raced through him. He shuddered, a half curse-half moan wrenching itself out of him as his cum spilled hotly out of him. He could feel Lotor twitching inside of him, before feeling the hot flood of the Galra's seed spilling into his ass, dribbling out of his hole and down the length of Lotor's cock. Tired and spent, Lotor's grip on Lance's elbow slackened, allowing the Paladin to collapse tiredly against his bed. With a wince, he felt Lotor pull out of him, collapsing sweatily beside him as both of them basked in the afterglow of something that had been animalistic yet passionate.

There was a knock on Lance's bedroom door before he could even call out the door cracked open slightly.

"Lance, " his mother gently called out to him in Spanish, "next time, play some music."

An embarrassed flush coated Lance's cheeks as his mother pulled the door shut. All Lance could do was bury his face into his pillow and laugh.

"I do agree...we were quite...loud."

Lance's brows shot up to the point they nearly disappeared into his hairline. He gave Lotor a questioning look. "You could understand Spanish, you asshole?"

With a casual shrug of indifference, Lotor reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind Lance's ear. "I learned it on the occasions you fell asleep in my arms."

"Why didn't you just tell me you knew?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise...and a gift."

"A gift for what?"

"To show you how much I love you...I love you, Lance."

There was a tightness in Lance's throat that had him propping himself up on his elbows and leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of the Galra's lips. "I love you too," he whispered.

* * *

Lance rolled in his sleep, his eyes slowly parting when he no longer felt the warmth of Lotor's flesh against his back. Or the cramped conditions of two grown men sleeping in a bed that was meant for one. "Lotor?" He mumbled out into the darkness of the room.

A piercing shriek from his mother made it's way upstairs as a grin stretched across Lance's features as he allowed himself to settle comfortably back into his bed. Allowing himself to drift off back to sleep with the knowledge that his mother had just stumbled across Lotor in the dark.


	21. The Calm Before the Storm

**Trigger warnings: major character(s) death, mentions of past child abuse**

 **A/N: Since I totally didn't upload a chapter on Sunday, I'm giving you guys a double update as an apology. The epilogue will be coming tomorrow and that pretty much wraps up the whole thing.**

 **Chapter summary: The final battle for the Paladins; old and new forces come into play, and I revive tossed away plot points that the VLD writers never finished or abandoned *takes sip of my water*.**

* * *

A single month.

A single month felt impossibly like a lifetime to Lance. The days he spent with his family and Lotor were like a blessing to him, being able to show the emperor all the sites and smells of Earth that he'd grown up with had made his heart flutter. He'd introduced tex-mex food to Lotor, the Galra quickly falling in love with steak fajitas and breakfast tacos.

They'd gone down to the beach one day near Playa Encanto, just early enough in the morning that there were was hardly anyone on the beach except for a handful of older men that sat in cheap beach foldouts, the lip of their hats pulled down so that it covered their eyes as they stuck fishing poles into the warm sand beside them. They'd gazed out at the crystal blue water; waves lapping at their toes as seagulls cried out above their heads.

His parents held a cookout—mostly because they wanted to get to know the group of friends that their son had made while fighting a galactic war. Eyes had widened in surprise at the appearance of Coran and Allura as well as the Generals. While his family had grown used to Lotor's slightly more humanoid yet Galran appearance, they'd were taken aback by their non-humanoid appearances. Though his niece and nephew had peered up at the Generals with curiosity and wonder burning in their eyes.

"I want to be as big as her when I get older!" His niece had pointed at Zethrid, immediately launching herself at the thicker Galra's legs and attaching to her like a strip of glue.

Throaty and deep laughter ripped itself from Lance's throat at the look of shocked horror on Zethrid's face as she for once looked out of her element when it came to Earth children.

In that month-long reprieve, Allura and Coran had managed to rebuild the castle with the schematics that they'd given to Pidge's father. But even with the castle rebuilt, Allura didn't rest as Lance found her pouring over a series of new schematics on the holographic screen hovering before her.

"What are you working on?"

With a beaming smile, Allura had turned her head, her eyes widening slightly with surprise as she gestured to the screen. "It's a new schematic for something that can hopefully help us in our upcoming fight." Peering at the screen, Lance let out a little surprised gasp as he glanced incredulously between the schematics and Allura.

"Is that a Lion?"

With a nod, Allura swiped her hand over the screen, letting the schematics fizzle into nothingness. "The idea came to me when I encountered a white lion when I went to Oriande with Lotor. It almost seemed to me like it knew that'd I'd be there. That I'd show up eventually." She paused. "It almost seemed like it was there for a purpose and considering that we're going to need every bit of an advantage we have when it comes to fighting against Haggar, this seemed like the likeliest advantage we could have."

Slipping him a nervous smile, Allura's eyes softened slightly when Lance reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Allura," his breath rustled a strand of hair that had escaped the confine of her bun, "you'll do fine." He pulled away from her, his hands resting on her shoulders. "You did amazing when you piloted Blue! This'll be no different!"

Her shoulder's sagged, a tight smile worming its way across her face. "That was different," she stated brusquely, attempting to brush off the compliment. "All my life I was a princess who was taught the art of diplomacy. Fighting in a war was— _is_ —different. I won't be as good as you or the other Paladins."

Gripping her shoulders tightly so that Allura tilted her head back to stare into his eyes. "You'll be fine, Allura. _I promise._ You'll be fine." An eased smile spread across her face as Allura huffed, reaching up with a hand to tuck that stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I suppose I should get started on buil—" The room became awash in a red glow; alarms blaring throughout the facility as a concerned look swept between Allura and Lance. "They shouldn't be here. It's too early," the cluster of words spilled from Allura's lips, her brows pinching together in a contained panic.

"Come on," Lance's hands slipped from her shoulders, "we need to go find the others."

Racing out of the room, Allura and Lance ran through the halls of the Garrison. Nervous recruits were running to and fro; their fear highlighted by the glowing red lights that flashed on and off. Bodiless, an automated voice filled every corridor that the two of them raced through.

" _All fighters, please head to your appropriate area. Hostile threats have been detected in Earth's atmosphere. Please, all fighters head to your appropriate_ — " Lance rounded a corner, his face colliding with a solid wall of rock-hard flesh. A curse ripped itself from his lips.

"Lance?" Blinking in surprise at the familiarity of the voice, Lance lifted his gaze to see an equally surprised Shiro accompanied by the rest of the Paladins, along with Krolia, Matt, Lotor and his generals.

"Well," Lance mumbled as he rubbed at his sore nose, praying that it wasn't broken. "Looks like everyone is already here. What's going on?"

Lips flattening out into a thin line, Pidge looked absolutely disturbed as she offered everyone an explanation that none of them were willing to hear. "A whole fleet of Galra ships were detected in the atmosphere." She let out a frustrated groan, hands flying to grip at strands of her hair, tugging on them the corners of her mouth fixed into a grimace. "It shouldn't even be possible," she grumbled to herself, "I set up a system so advance to track enemy ship movements as far as Pluto that the government would be jealous to get their hands on—none of this even makes sense!"

"Ignore my little sister's breakdown." Matt sternly commanded. "It doesn't matter that we didn't know the enemy was on our doorstep until now. What matters is that we protect the citizens of Earth as best as we can and end this war once and for all." Matt glanced at Shiro, who nodded in agreement.

"Everyone head to your Lions or your ships. Allura find Coran and head to the castle. We'll need auxiliary support when we can get it and we'll need someone to be a liaison between us and the Garrison." Glancing toward Lotor, he nodded at the emperor. "Lotor to my right, your generals fly with you since you know how they fight better than we do."

"I'll provide you guys with any back up you need." Krolia crossed her arms in front of her chest, cocking her hip out slightly. "I was a decent fighter pilot before I gave birth to Keith." A smile stretched across her features as she reached out and ruffled her son's hair despite his protests. "I'll see if I still have it in me."

"Good," Shiro let out a breath of relief. "We take to the air in 10."

Wordlessly everyone began to rush off to prepare. Lance turned about to follow the rest of the Paladin's when he felt long fingers brush against his arm. Eyes flickering to his right, he was surprised to see Lotor still standing there. Ezor, Acxa, and Zethrid were behind him of course, though Lance couldn't help the snicker that eased its way out of him the moment he spied Ezor resting her face in her hands as she made kissing faces at the two of them. Following his line of sight, Lotor glared at the three of them until Acxa aimed a swift kick at Ezor's butt and told Lotor that the three of them were heading for the recreated Sincline ships.

After much consideration during their month-long reprieve. Lotor had approached Allura with a request for her help to rebuild the Sincline ships—a request that she had been wary about, but after much consideration had agreed to.

"Is everything okay?" Lance questioned, noticing the way Lotor's mouth looked pinched at the corners; something he'd tended to do when he was a nervous wreck.

"There's something about this that feels...off." Lotor bit out between clenched teeth.

"Off?"

Seeming contemplative for a few seconds, Lotor shook his head furtively. "Ignore my musings." He paused, there seemed to be something more that he wanted to say, but he turned, prepared to walk away.

"Lotor!" The Galra turned, his eyes widening in surprise as Lance wrapped his arms around Lotor's waist and tucked his head against his chest. A wordless promise was exchanged between them as Lotor, reciprocatively, wrapped his own arms around the Blue Paladin.

"I know," The Galra softly whispered against Lance's head. They lingered together, a desire to never separate flooding through their veins, but the urgency of the situation reluctantly forced them apart.

Lance made it to the bay where all the other Lions were being kept as his teammates were getting into theirs. Giving them a solitary nod, he took a deep breath and looked up at Blue. "This might be our last fight, Girl." A golden glint burned in Blue's eyes as she acknowledges his words. He could feel her purring deep within his soul at the exciting prospect of finally putting this centuries-long war to rest. Quickly getting into Blue, Lance changed into his suit in record time before settling into the cockpit. Hands sliding over the thrusters, he peered out into the hangar. Mouth pinched into a thin line as he squeezed the thrusters tightly...he waited, the muscles in his body tensing as Shiro's voice reverberated around his helmet as he commanded the other Paladins to take to the sky.

Blue sailed into the bright blue sky; though this time the New Mexico sky wasn't clear like it usually was. It wasn't devoid of the thin wisps of clouds that would typically sail across the sky, no, when Lance burst out of the hangar a wall of darkness seemed to blot out the sky. Dozens of enemy ships hung in the air, an unmoving mass of terror until Garrison fighter jets cut through the sky, racing to the formation causing the black mass to split apart as the tension that hung in the air melted into a tense, frenzy.

"Everyone! Keep your head above the water," Shiro's voice rumbled in Lance's ears, just as it was doing for the rest of his team. "It seems our friends decided to come out in full force."

Lance breathed as he eased the throttles forward, keeping Blue in a tight formation. In the corner of his eyes, the Paladin spied a series of two Sincline-like ships flying in a tight formation, yet remaining close to the Lions.

"Stay close. We don't know what these guys have planned, but I'm sure we'll figure out soon." Shiro commanded that Pidge, Matt, and Hunk flank to his left; take out a cluster of ships that were tailing down one of the Garrisons. Ordering Krolia to group up with Lotor's group, they were to offer assistance to a fleet of Garrison fighter jets that were being ganged up on by the clearly more battle-ready Galra.

Keith and Lance were to remain close to him. Weaving themselves between a cluster of Garrison ships. "Enemies coming up hot on our left!" Keith shouted as a pair of Galra ships raced toward the three of them. Without so much as a second hesitation, Lance pulled back the thrusters, causing Blue to slow down on speed, before launching her up in the air so that she hovered above Red and Black. Jaw unhinging, a bright blue column of energy burst forth from the Lion's mouth, the burst of power clipping one of the Galra fighter's wings, causing the ship to corkscrew itself out of the air and toward an impending impact as the ship's weight grew unbalanced. "Keith, I'm leaving this one to you."

Twirling and ducking underneath Black's belly, Keith used Red's speed to an advantage; the Lion darted through the air, ducking underneath the belly of the Galra ship. Keith maneuvered Red so that the Lion shot up behind the ship; Red's jaw widened, surging forward it clamped its jaw down onto the left-wing of the ship, using the momentum of its body to toss the ship to its left. Twisting and twirling through the air, a passing Garrison ship sailed by—attempting to chase off an enemy combatant that was tailing it—the ship Keith had thrown collided with the ship tailing one of the Garrison's own causing the two to explode in a fiery ball of gasoline and flaming debris.

The three Lions twisted and curled through the air, weaving themselves between countless enemy ships, picking off the ones that came after them or overpowered any allies that crossed in their paths.

Gritting his teeth, Lance couldn't help but feel prickles of unease rise to the surface of his skin. They'd been fighting for what felt like hours, though a quick glance at the array of holographic screens in front of him, told him that a mere half-hour had passed. There was something wrong here and he couldn't tell what it was. Eyes fleeting over the expanse of the battlefield he could observe, a chill settled into his bones, his lips parted as he spoke into his communication unit. "Guys, has anyone else noticed that the number of enemies we've been fighting hasn't decreased at all?"

There was silence over his com unit that had fear working its way through Lance's veins until Pidge spoke up. "Lance is right ...there's just something...too strange about all of this."

A few tense seconds passed before Shiro spoke up. "Allura, are you listening in on this?"

"Yes, Coran and I are performing an auxiliary scan of the battlefield, if anything strange is occu—" suddenly she cut herself short with a tight inhale of breath that had her hurriedly blurting out. "We need to tell the Garrison to fall back!"

"Allura—" Lance could hear the tension laced through Keith's voice, "what's going o—" It didn't take long for such a question to be answered; all at once the Galra battleships fazed out of existence as they had never been there in the first place.

The freezing sense of dread hadn't yet melted into Lance's veins, but in that exact moment, it had. A knot was forming itself in Lance's throat as he faintly heard Shiro hastily radioing Garrison control to tell their ships to fall back, but it was too late. In the distance a large object shimmered around the edges, creating a black, hovering mass that hung in the air.

"What the hell is that!" Pidge hissed as the form began to take shape, revealing a large humanoid, robot that took on a womanly shape.

"Oh my god!" Gasping, Lance could hear Shiro shouting desperate please for the Garrison commanders to call back their troops.

"Call them back right now! This was a trap! I'm telling you—" In the distance, the humanoid robot swiveled her head, surveying the entirety of the battlefield as black, translucent wings unfurled themselves from its back, creating a beautiful and intriguing work of art that on any other day maybe would have impressed the Paladins of Voltron.

Giving her wings a small flap, the thin membrane of them pulsated a soft and gentle purple as Shiro frantically tried to get the commanders to heed what he was saying. But it was too late as Lance let out a strangled noise from the hollow of his throat as all of them—it was the only thing they could do—watched this robotic figure materialize a black, barbed whip in her left hand. Pulling her hand back, she swiftly tucked it in close to her body and flicked her wrist causing the whip to arc through the air.

"Oh my god," the strangled cry ripped itself from Allura's throat as they watched ship after ship of both Garrison and Coalition members come into contact with the whip; they split apart, some bursting into flames if the whip came into contact with their engine. Shaking in his seat, Lance squeezed his eyes shut as dozens of strangled, blood-curdling screams filled his ears before there was total silence.

He felt sick to his stomach as he gulped down rapid breaths, his skin tingling beneath his armor. Forcing his eyes opened he saw the remaining Garrison troops that hadn't been caught up in the slaughter scrambling to retreat in a mass of confusion and terror.

"It seems, Haggar knew we'd fall into her little trap," Ezor growled out, venom dripping from her words with such ferocity that it did well to capture how everyone else was feeling.

Laughing bitterly, Pidge pointed out that none of them had noticed till now, "For such an important fight, you'd think she'd make her big appearance at some point."

"Ignore her for now," came Lotor's assuaged tone, "if she hasn't come today, she'll come another time. For now, we need to focus on defeating the enemy before us before more of our friends and allies succumb to this bloodshed."

Lance zoned out as Shiro called for the Coalition ships to fall back and regroup. He was still shaking when he heard Lotor's voice calling out to him. "Lance." He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat as he struggled to focus on Lotor's voice. The sweat trickling against the side of his face felt cold even against the glacial chill of his own skin. In the background, he could hear Lotor muttering as he shifted around in his own seat.

"Lance?"

The Paladin lifted his head, "I'm here," his own voice sounded abrasive to his ears.

There was a pleased noise in the hollow of Lotor's throat. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel...sick." His throat tightened up again; skin itching as if it had been pricked all over. He could taste panic on his tongue.

Undoubtedly sensing the same thing, Lotor spoke to him softly; his voice a mere touch above a whisper. "Hey, love, I'm going to need you to breathe for me."

"I don't think I—" Lance endeavored to argue, but the Galran Emperor cut him off.

"Just try for me." he directed Lance to breathe in and out at the sound of his voice. They were deep breathes; breathes that quickly calmed the Paladin down till the undersuit of his armor no longer felt like pinpricks against his skin. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," was Lance's curt reply.

There was a pleased hum that rumbled out of Lotor's throat. "We'll talk about this later," he promised, "right now we just have to deal with this thing."

"Right," the Blue Paladin enunciated. He focused his gaze on the enemy in front of him, tuning into the conversation that was ensuing among the others.

"So not to be a Debby downer or anything, but how are we supposed to defeat this thing!?" A shrill squeak of fear poured out from Pidge's throat; that same twisting snake of fear that was working itself through the Paladins and any remaining Coalition and Garrison ships that hovered in the air. "It took out like half of the Garrison and Coalition ships alone!" An argument arose from that; sharp, biting fangs that dripped with paralyzing fear and venom. It tore itself from the Paladins and sought to rip itself through the team, tear them apart so they weren't thinking as one.

It was what Haggar wanted.

It's what she had planned from the start.

"Enough!" The shout coming from Shiro echoed through their com unit's; an alpha Lion's snarl that did well to quell the discord and tension among them. "This isn't the time for us to be tearing each other apart. We need to act like a team and think like one. Right now we need to figure out the best way to defeat this thing without losing any more of our allies or friends." There was a quick pause as Shiro's brain worked overtime coming up with a plan of action. "Team, get ready to form Voltron. Even if we can't defeat this thing we can at least slow it down."

"Right," everyone agreed. Flying their Lions into formation, they formed Voltron like they had thousands of times before. Though it seemed to capture the attention of the enemy who swiveled its head in their direction and began to make its way toward them.

Taking a deep breath, Shiro ordered for Lotor, his generals, and any ship still remaining on the battlefield to offer support when they could. Voltron would be taking on the brunt of the offense. "Get ready guys," Shiro growled out as the enemy held their whip aloft; their wings curled inward into its body, the translucent membranes metamorphosing into a gentle purple hue as the whip whistled through the air in an arc. Summoning its sword, Voltron held it aloft before the whip could even so much as connect with the body of the robotic protector.

Letting out a frustrated groan, a droplet of sweat traced a curve down the side of Pidge's face as the cockpit of Green began to wash itself in a variety of colored lights and blaring noises. "Guys, I don't think I can keep holding onto thi—" She was cut off as the enemy tugged on the whip, causing Voltron to swivel its torso as the tip of the sword was dragged into the ground; the whip unraveled itself from around the weapon, striking across Voltron's body as it did so.

Pained screams tore itself from the throats of the Paladin's as Voltron stumbled backward. A cloud of desert dust billowing up around them as the enemy moved toward them, albeit far more slowly than it did before.

Translucent wings turned a luminous white as they curled inwards, the robotic figure tucking its body behind the wings as Garrison and Coalition ships alike moved in on the offensive and began to send bolt after bolt of attacks, providing some coverage to a battered Voltron.

"What the hell was that?" Keith shuddered, his muscles spasming like they'd been jolted with a high dosage of electricity as cold sweat dripped down his skin.

"I think I'm going to barf," with a grumble, Hunk made small gagging noises that made the other Paladins wrinkle their noses.

"Guys!" Matt's voice filtered over their com units, "I don't mean to interrupt, but you might want to take a look at the enemy."

The Paladins peered out at the battlefield; the enemy had unfurled its wings from its body, but from its movements as it attempted to defend itself and attack oncoming ships it seemed...slow.

A strangled noise made its way past Pidge's lips as the Green Paladin rustled around in the interior of their cockpit, no doubt trying to hit at various buttons, keys, and other gadgetry with her short limbs. "Ok, so it seems that whenever the enemy's wings turn purple they're charging up their attack. All of that energy gets released whenever the whip comes into contact with anything and when that happens, all that power and energy needs time to recharge."

"What are you saying, Pidge?" Keith asked the question that everyone seemed to have on their mind.

"Essentially, all we have to do is attack after the enemy releases every bit of energy they have."

"Allura. Lotor. Did you catch that?" Shiro questioned the two alien leaders. They both responded positively that they did.

"I'll draw the enemy's attention to the castle," Allura spoke up. "With the castle's defenses and firepower, there's a higher probability of the ship withstanding any form of an attack that we could possibly face."

Lotor spoke up, telling the team that he, the generals and much of the remaining Galra force would launch an offensive attack against the enemy from the other side. Shiro, agreeing to both of their plans told the team to hold back and wait for the right opportunity to strike.

Coming into view over their heads, the castle rained down beam after beam of attack. Translucent wings wrapped themselves around the inorganic body of their enemy in an attempt to shield themselves from the oncoming offensive attack. On the other side of them, Lotor, the Galra forces, the Coalition, and the Garrison ships were doing an amazing job of making this offensive show of force a relentless one.

But like everything good in the Paladins' life, it didn't seem to last for very long.

In her cockpit, Pidge's eyes narrowed as the enemies' wings seemed to tuck tighter around their body. Color leeched itself out of the wings as black lines snaked itself from the outer edges of the wings, clawing its way toward the innermost sections. "Oh, shit," the curse ripped itself from her lips quicker than Shiro could even give her a father-like talking to about the usage of such strong language.

"What's that color supposed to mean?" Ezor chirped into the com units.

"I—" The single letter had barely left the Green Paladin's lips when the blackened wings unfurled themselves and the robot shot up into the sky like a wayward missile. Swinging its weapon, the whip wrapped itself around the body of the castle. With its other hand, the robot gripped the handle of the whip tightly and began to pull the ship down toward it, causing the air to scream and cry with the strain of a hulking mass of metal straining against the gravity of the situation.

"Allura!?" Worry coated the interior of Hunk's throat he attempted to contact the castle.

"I'm—" Allura gritted the word out, whatever words she'd been planning to say had been wrestled aside as a frightened cry echoed through the com units as the ship jerked downward.

Shiro ordered the Paladins to separate from Voltron, intent on rushing the enemy and confusing it with their respective Lions. They dissolved Voltron, each of their individual Lions rushing to the enemy. A beam of energy released itself from Red, dragging across the enemy's back. It was a field of fury and chaos that became all-consuming to anyone that crossed its path. The enemy swatted at the Lions that flew by it, seemingly annoyed that something that were like gigantic flies were disturbing it.

"Shiro!" Pidge spoke up after what seemed like an hour. "Is it possible that Voltron's blade can cut through the whip!?"

"Yes," Shiro replied, even without seeing his face the confusion was apparent in his voice. "Don't we need the whip to—"

"Just trust me on this one," Pidge cut him off. "We need to reform Voltron."

There was silence for what seemed like a sharp heartbeat before Shiro agreed to it. The Paladins got into formation, reforming Voltron with practiced ease. Voltron's sword materialized in its hand.

"Pidge, you're the mastermind behind this plan what do you want us to do!?" Keith shouted.

"We need to release the castle from its grip. So cut through the whip." A smug smirk settled across Pidge's face at the unexpected rhyme. A bit of humor among the battlefield that had the Paladin's groaning; a bright light in a very bleak situation.

Voltron shot forward, the sword drawn back and held close to its body. It swung outward in an arc, sailing through the air, it sliced through the black whip. Cleaving the weapon in two so that it's purple interior dangled in the air for a short moment. The castle jerked upward as the whip around it began to unravel and twisted through the air before crashing into the ground below.

"Thanks, guys." Allura managed to grit out through struggled breaths. "Now as you Earthlings say, 'let's bring this bitch down.'"

"I have to say I'm liking this new Allura." Lance laughed causing Keith to chirp up.

"Just make sure you don't fall in love with her."

"Oh, I would never, Keith." Lance playfully batted his eyelashes. "My eyes are set on a rather tall, lithe, Galra."

"Lance, I never you knew you felt that way about me." Acxa playfully teased the Blue Paladin. A rare occurrence from her, but it pulled a laugh out of everyone.

"Save the banter for when we win this battle, everyone." A thin smile was stretched across Shiro's face despite the pragmatism of his words. "Pidge, what do we do?"

"Well," Pidge spoke up, "since we just cut off its only access to discharge any stored up kinetic energy if we overload it with a series of attacks it should damage the internal processes of the machine—"

"Pidge." Shiro couldn't help himself from chuckling. "Layman terms please."

With a sigh, Pidge rolled her eyes. "Hit the robot a lot. It go boom."

Shiro relayed the instructions to the Garrison command. Ship after ship, now with a renewed energy, laid volley after volley of attacks against the enemy. The robot spun around, trying to track the ships that attacked it. Now without a weapon, it attempted to swat the ships out of the sky. Some ships were sent hurtling to the ground, bursting into a volley of flames. But that didn't replace the relentless onslaught that it was facing as Voltron, the Coalition, and the Garrison continued to attack it even at the risk of their own lives.

It wasn't long before the robot began to shake, the stored up energy in it beginning to overload its systems. Hot steam poured out of it as parts of the robot blew up sending the entire thing down to the ground until it finally stopped twitching. The noise of it all was swept away by the insane cheering that thundered over the com units in the Lions.

The high of such a win only lasted for such a short while when the Paladins, Lotor, and his generals returned to the Garrison base and for the next hour saw family and loved ones coming in only to be met by Garrison commanders who had to relay the unfortunate reality that their loved ones had passed in battle.

"Guys!" Everyone turned, a little surprised and shocked to see Allura standing there with Coran behind her.

"Allura!" Pidge flew at the alien princess's mid-section, wrapping her arms around her waist when she came close enough to do so.

The smile across Allura's face was enough to melt the concern that seemed to be there momentarily, but that concern soon came back when Allura looked up at all of them with such a stern look on her face that it caused them all to fall into a hushed silence. "You all need to follow me."

Allura led them all to a large hangar, that exposed the enemy they had just defeated was lying broken apart on a lengthy platform. Dozens of Garrison contracted scientists were rushing around, glancing at monitors, and pouring over information that flew across their screens.

"What are they doing?" Keith narrowed his eyes at the scientists. Some of whom seemed nervous that anyone without their credentials were there.

"Studying it." Allura quipped.

"Why brings us here?" Hunk's brows scrunched together in confusion as Allura turned to Coran. Her mouth was set into a grim line, her face pale as she blinked to shield herself from looking at the deconstructed form of the robot.

She looked absolutely sick to her stomach like she couldn't even tell anyone of them why she'd brought them there.

"Allura and I had a moment to look at some finer details of the robot before we came to fetch you," Coran supplied, his own face looked dire. "We didn't want to believe it at first, but—it's clearly made from Altean technology."

Shock gripped each of them. It was like a punch to the throat. Allura stood there, the muscles in her back noticeably tight as she lifted her head to glance at Lotor. Lance's eyes flickered to the Galra, he could almost hear the suspicion, the questions in Allura's tone as she spoke his name.

"Lotor—"

"Don't," Lotor hissed, cutting her off, his mouth was set into a scowl that matched the fury in his eyes. "You should know better than to think that _our_ people would—"

"—That's not what I was going to suggest." Allura hissed bitterly, cutting off Lotor's speech prematurely. "The tech in it is Altean, but it's nothing that I've ever seen. It's nothing that the technology of my time or even the Alteans from the new colony could create, not with our current limitations."

"What are you saying then?" Lotor asked the question that was on everyone's minds.

Allura shook her head, pressing splayed fingers against her temples. "I fear that this is connected to the one warning Romelle has given us."

"This is just great," Keith growled out. His arms were folded in front of his chest, a scowl pulling at his features.

"So you're saying that this robot," Shiro jerked his chin toward the broken down monstrosity, "has to have come from the alternate reality."

"Yes. The only conclusion I can come to given with Romelle's warning is that the Altean Empire clearly has more of a role in this war than simple espionage." A deep sigh settled into every fiber of Allura's being, she turned toward the black metal railings that lined the platform they all were standing on and lowered her head. Stray strands of her hair fell loosely in front of her face as Allura looked more crestfallen than any of them had ever seen her. "Forgive me, everyone," she spoke up as the scientists in the room began filing out for the day, "but I wish to be alone with my own thoughts as company."

There was silence as everyone obliged with Allura's wish. Lotor was the last person to follow suit, his foot nearly through the door when Allura called out his name. He turned around, regarding her curiously until he saw the trembling of muscles in her back and slowly walked to the metal railings that she desperately clung to like they were her lifeline on this planet; in this reality that could offer some form of stability to her in a matter of great magnitude that she had never faced before.

Lotor noticed two things when he finally came to stand by her side. First, that her knuckles were bone white, so pale that they showed through the rich brown nature of her skin. Secondly, there were tears running down her pinkened cheeks. Tears that Lotor had never seen before despite the tough facade that Allura projected to everyone. She turned her head toward him, tears shimmering on the surface of her eyes as she choked out, "I can't believe I have to do this."

"Do what?" He questioned as Allura straightened herself up, using the edges of her sleeves to wipe at the tears that spilled down her cheeks.

"Fight against my own people."

Brows furrowing at the weight behind her words, Lotor shook his head, reaching out with a comforting hand that he placed on Allura's shoulder, only to squeeze slightly to show her that he wasn't going anywhere. Not when she clearly needed someone to emotionally stand beside her. "Allura," he spoke her name softly, " _they_ aren't your people. Your people are here and on the new colony and they need you to stand strong."

"But don't you see!" Allura shrugged herself out of his touch. "They are in a sense, my people." Her teeth dug into her lower lip as she turned to stare out into nothingness. "When I and the Paladins went over there do you know what we learned?" Lotor shook his head. "That the Alteans were the one to win the war after the death of my father, that I was the one to create what became the Altean Empire and the Galra—" she trailed off, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes.

"I understand."

"For 10,000 years the empire conquered and enslaved people and part of me feels responsible for the fact that now, we're not only fighting Haggar or other opposing Galra forces. We're fighting against Alteans!"

Lotor processed her words, his brain muddling over everything until he spoke up. He sighed, turning so that he was facing the rail. He leaned against it. "Knowing you, Allura. I would assume your alternate universe counterpart would be every bit similar to you."

Allura quirked a brow at him, still rubbing at the dry tear tracks that covered her cheeks. "What are you getting at?"

"Knowing you, you'd probably create an empire based on peace. You wouldn't want any planet, any other people to experience the pain and atrocities of war even if it is inevitable. You're kind like that, even if sometimes that attribute tends to sometimes be a downfall. Yet for you, you manage to turn what can be a weakness into a blinding strength." Allura sniffled, her eyes slightly narrowed as Lotor continued on. "Whatever values you found that the empire possessed when you entered that alternate reality is no fault of yours. People tend to find ways to twist the words and beliefs of their predecessors and the outcome that can be gotten is one that no one can ever foresee."

Blinking, Allura pulled away from the railing, she turned so that her back pressed against the cold, metallic bars. "Lotor...how do you cope with all of this?" She rolled her loosely in the air, gesturing to the state that they all found themselves in.

Sighing, Lotor tipped his head back so that he was staring at the ceiling. "Truthfully?" She nodded. "I don't know. There are times I find myself waking up thinking this whole war is nothing more than a long dream that I found myself in, but—" he shrugged. "—I guess I just have to make do with the reality I live in. Although—" he paused, a devious grin stretching across his face. "—finding myself waking up to Lance's sleeping face every morning so far is a wonder that I would find myself missing after this war is over."

Allura laughed, the skin around her nose slightly wrinkling as she began to hiccup on her own amusement. "You really do love him, don't you?" She whispered causing Lotor to nod.

"I do."

* * *

Days after their battle seemed to pass by. It was all they could do; wait for any signs, for any blips of communication that would confirm Haggar and the alternate universe Alteans were just on Earth's doorstep. But as the days turned into weeks, that tense worry that seemed to hover over everyone began to dissipate in everyone just slightly—though it didn't seem to affect the Paladins whose nerves remained on high alert.

"Lance, here."

Shaken from his own thoughts, Lance leaned away from the kitchen island to see his mother attempting to shove a plate of cheese and beef empanadas into his chest. The ceiling fan above their heads spun as it attempted to push the hot summer heat out of the house as the t.v. in the kitchen displayed one of the telenovelas that his mother liked to watch during lunch. On the screen, the maid fainted onto the floor as the actor playing her employer's son was revealed to be her long lost son from a secret affair with her employer's husband that she thought had been stillborn.

Wrenching his gaze away from the t.v. Lance focused on the steaming pile of empanadas that threatened to spill from the plate. Steam curled off of them and dissipated into the air. "Take these upstairs to Lotor," his mother clucked her tongue, "that poor boy hasn't even eaten breakfast today."

Taking the plate, Lance left the kitchen and headed upstairs. He knew that Lotor wasn't in the best of mood's lately since he began to confine himself to Lance's room and spend much of his time switching through the different channels of communication he had set up to see if anyone so much as had a peep about Haggar's whereabouts. Knocking on his bedroom door, Lance twisted the knob, pushing the door open so that he could step inside. Kicking the door closed with the heel of his foot, he stared at Lotor who was sitting on the floor. His back leaning against Lance's bed, wearing a white t-shirt with a hideous waxy turquoise and purple pattern that seemed to be on every single paper cup that had been produced in the 1990s. The shirt would have looked hideous on anyone else, but Lotor managed to pull it off; he managed to pull off all the clothes Lance's mother had bought for him and Lance had to stifle himself from laughing the evening his mother had forced Lotor to try on every single clothing she'd bought for him despite her unusual taste in fashion.

Lotor glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes and cut the conversation he was having with a Blade of Mamora member short. He waved his hand through the hologram, dissolving the screen so that he could focus his gaze on the Paladin.

"What were you doing?" Lance asked as he walked over to Lotor and sat on the floor beside him. He held the plate out in his direction like an offering as Lotor reached out to snatch one of the still-hot empanadas off of the plate before Lance placed the entire thing on the floor in front of them.

"I was contacting some members of the Blade of Mamora and some Galra generals to see if they've had any word about Haggar's location."

"How's it coming along?" Lance reached out and snatched his own empanada as Lotor bit down into his.

"I haven't heard a single word."

"You just need to relax," Lance sighed, shoving the last corner of the empanada into his mouth, he licked the grease off of his fingers. "You need to focus on other things besides Haggar for once. When she pops up, she'll pop up and we'll be the first to hear about it. Besides—" Lance whispered, he leaned into Lotor's side causing the Galra to cock a single brow as Lance leaned in and began to nibble the thin junction of skin between Lotor's neck and shoulder. He placed a hand on Lotor's leg, letting it slide up until his fingers just brushed against his inner thigh.

"Well, if you insist," Lotor sucked in with a single breath, turning his face in Lance's direction as he pulled away from Lotor's neck.

They leaned in, their mouths hovering mere inches from one another when a knock interrupted them, forcing the two to pull away from one another. The door opened, just as Lance's mother poked her head inside.

"Lance, I'm going to go into town to pick up some groceries and do some shopping, so I'll be gone for a couple of hours." Her eyes flickered between her son and his boyfriend as she quickly switched from speaking in English to Spanish. _"Do you need me to pick you up condoms or anything?"_

Lance's cheeks went red as he felt Lotor's muscles in his thigh stiffen as he desperately tried to contain his laughter at his mother's words. He had still convinced her that he didn't understand a lick of Spanish.

The bastard.

"No mom, we're good." She nodded her head and shut the door as she left.

"You really should tell my mom you know Spanish," Lance told Lotor shortly after.

A smile stretched across Lotor's features. "I like to have some secrets up my sleeve."

Leaning against him, Lance couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Ok, Mr. Bond, then what secrets do you currently have up your sleeve right now?"

Looking pensive, Lotor hummed to himself as he thought for a bit, "Well I have someone that I fancy at the moment. Someone, I never thought I would adore as much as I do...but they've managed to capture my heart."

Lance is grinning as he playfully goes with the flow of the conversation. "Oh, and who is that?"

With the most deadpan look on his face, Lotor said, "It's clearly Coran."

Laughter ripped itself from Lance's throat, causing him to lean into Lotor's side and kiss his cheek between the peals of laughter. Their shortlived bliss was interrupted by both of their communicators going off; Lotor answered his at the same time Lance did for his own. Acxa and Allura respectively popped up on both of their holographic screens.

"You need to get to Garrison base." Both of them managed to push out at exactly the same time.

"What's going on?" Lance frowned at Allura, he could feel his heart quickening as he stood up to pull his armor from the closet.

"There's been an alert on the planetary defense system. It might be nothing, but whatever is coming it looks big."

"Alright, Lotor and I will be there in a bit." Their calls ended with Lance and Lotor glancing at each other before they ran out of the room. It didn't take long to get to the Garrison and neither half of the couple was surprised to see everyone gathered together once they entered into a room that contained all sorts of communication devices and a large holographic screen that displayed a single, large dot slowly approaching the Earth.

"What's going on?" Lotor addressed Allura who quickly glanced at him.

"There's a single ship approaching Earth's atmosphere. We've tried establishing contact with the pilot, but so far our calls have gone unanswered."

"A single ship?" Keith frowned. "Can we get a read on if it's a warship or something else?"

Pidge, naturally sitting in front of a keyboard, with flourish tapped at a bunch of keys until they got a satellite image of Earth's thermosphere pulled up onto the screen. Just a few miles away from the satellite they were using to view the image before them was a fairly normal Galra cargo ship. Pidge frowned as she tapped at a number of keys again, her eyes flitting across some coded text that flew just beneath the screen. "That's weird. There's only two lifeforms aboard the ship."

"Two people running an entire ship by themselves?" Allura frowned, her skin tingled with the same feeling that everyone in the room was starting to get.

Something wasn't right.

Raising a single finger to her tug at her bottom lip, Allura turned toward Lotor. "Have there been any reports from the empire about a cargo ship set to travel to Earth?"

"All of the ones that I know of, have already arrived up till last week. If this one was scheduled, then someone didn't make an effort to report it to me or report it at all."

With a frown on his face, Shiro turned to Pidge. "Can you attempt to contact the ship again? Try to open up a line of communication with them."

Pidge nodded. Only to frown moments later. "They're refusing all attempts at contact."

"Send them a warning message to identify themselves. If they don't and enter Earth's atmosphere they'll be met with hostility."

Pidge was in the process of sending the message when the entirety of the holographic screen became awash in red. A bright golden box blinking in the middle of the screen as it warned that the mysterious cargo ship was trying to patch through to their communication system.

Throwing her hands up into the air out of frustration, Pidge blurted out, "Now you guys want to talk!"

Everyone glanced at Allura, who nodded her head in judgment. "Pidge. Patch it through."

Nodding. Pidge accepted it. Who they saw displayed on the screen had everyone standing still in flabbergasted shock. Out of the corner of Lance's eyes, Zethrid's entire body tenses up, her fists trembling in rage and fury. She gritted her teeth together, her eyes focused on the screen with such an intensity that Lance was surprised she hadn't verbally blown up. Beside her Ezor looked pale, tears shimmered in her eyes as she desperately gripped at Zethrid's hand like it was an anchor to keep from losing herself. Acxa had her head bowed, her chest rising and falling in a manner that it made Lance worried that she was having a panic attack. Her now slightly longer hair that just brushed her shoulder, obscured half of her face so that Lance couldn't even see what sorts of expressions were currently plaguing her.

Beside him, Lotor _looked_ pale, like all the blood had been drained out of him and replaced with ice water. There was a hushed gasp that left him when his lips finally parted, a strangled, broken whisper that left him as he breathed out a single name like it was a thousand questions in one. "Narti?"

Narti appeared on the screen, but not like the vague recollections that Lance remembered having of her from memories that seemed so far and distant in the past that it'd been almost like another lifetime. The jagged lines on her face that served as her mouth were wide open, displaying a ragged row of teeth and a tongue with edges that were lined up with the same jagged teeth-like appendages. It was like looking into the interior of a goose's mouth but somehow more terrifying.

"How the hell are you alive!" Everyone turned to see Acxa staring up at the screen. Tears were racing down her cheeks, her jaw set sternly in her face, her features colored with enough derision and disgust that suggested that sheer will alone was keeping her from stepping up to the console Pidge was at and smashing it to pieces.

Narti didn't even bother to address her, instead turning her attention to Lotor. "I didn't expect you to realize that I was Honerva's spy." Her voice was raspy, almost whisper-like, from the years of disuse. If anyone was shocked that Narti could actually talk no one showed it. "Not so soon anyone. Unfortunately, it caused me to have to make some minor _improvisations_ of course." There was the sound of a cat mewling as Kova hopped up onto Narti's shoulder. It blinked at all of them. "Be warned Lotor." Narti grinned, causing a shiver to roll up the length of Lance's spine. "This was a long time coming."

The communication cut off, the holographic screen going back to displaying the exterior of the ship. Lance desperately wanted to say something to Lotor who looked so conflicted beside him, but he couldn't. Not when everything seemed to go to hell in the following seconds.

"What the hell is that?" Matt pointed to something on the screen as Pidge furiously tapped at the keys before her, enhancing the image to show a field of white rings floating behind the cargo ship. She narrowed her eyes at them.

"I don't know but the system is picking a massive energy spike."

Just then the rings seemed to shimmer as the space inside of them rippled and expanded until they formed something everyone was familiar with.

"They're wormholes," Hunk hissed as they watched rebel Galra ships and Altean fleets begin to slowly make their ways out of them until the screen became awash in more ships than anyone had ever expected.

Before the cargo ship, a massive figure shimmered into existence. A figure that had every bit of worry in the room dialed up until it just about broke the invisible meter. The figure looked like the Sincline ship Voltron had fought, but there as no way that Haggar could have gotten Lotor's ship that they left behind in the rift and she would have needed the other two ships they currently had in order to make it. No, instead this one was clearly a fabrication of Galra and Altean technology combined. Black and white in coloration it floated in space like a silent sentry as it waited for the Earth to react to its presence.

"Oh come on!" Hunk groaned. "They have a Sincline 2.0!?"

"Lotor," Acxa bit out, turning her gaze to him. "What do we do?"

"We fight." He bit out, anger and fury coated those two simple words but it ignited a flame in the room as everyone began to rush about, alarms blaring around them as the entire facility prepared to fight a war that had been long coming.

Everyone made their way to the hangar room where the ships and Lions were being stored. Lance couldn't help but focus on the tense bundle of muscles that existed in Lotor's back or the look of suppressed rage on his features as he headed to one of the two remaining Sincline ships that Acxa was already climbing into the co-pilot seat of.

"Hey, Lotor!" Lotor turned at the sound of his own name, his expression mollifying just slightly when he saw that it was Lance. The corner of Lance's mouth tugged down into a frown as he reached out to grab both of Lotor's hands in his own and gave them a little squeeze.

"I know you're not okay—"

"—I'm fine." Lotor snapped, cutting him short. It only caused the frown on Lance's face to deepen further.

"No, you're not. Don't give me that bullshit that you are. You have every right to be mad that Narti wasn't dead; that she clearly was playing the game for the other side."

"She was my friend. She was all of our friends, but she was also _family_ , Lance."

"I get that. I really do. And you have every right in the world to be pissed that your family is betraying you. But don't think or even forget for a second that Acxa, Ezor, Zethrid, and I don't have your back covered. Even if we have to beat all of the answers out of Narti, we're still going to get them. _We're going to get the answers we need_." Pulling a hand away, Lance brought it up to cup at Lotor's cheek, causing a warm smile to tug at a face that was laden with eyes that already shimmered with profound tiredness.

"Has anyone told you that you look beautiful when you thirst for vengeance." Lotor croaked out causing Lance to roll his eyes.

"Save the sweet talk for the bedroom, Mister." He patted Lotor's cheek. "Now let's go out there and win us a war."

The two of them pulled apart from one another so that they could climb into their respective ships. Lance was just slipping his helmet on when he settled into his seat in Blue's cockpit.

"Is everyone ready?" Shiro's voice crackled in his ear. A firm agreement rose up from everyone.

"Everyone, be careful," Coran pleaded with them. "That goes for you especially, princess."

Allura sighed, telling Coran that she would heed his worry as she sat in the cockpit of the White Lion she had finally finished constructing a few weeks ago. Coran was manning the castleship by himself.

"Alright, everyone. Let's take to the skies."

Thousands of ships shot out of the hangar, the Lions trailing closely behind them as they took to the sky where they all saw the enemy making their way toward them.

"What's the plan?" Keith asked.

"We'll—" Shiro started to say but was cut off by Zethrid's throaty growl.

"—Leave Narti to us."

"But—" Shiro tried to protest, only to be interrupted again by Acxa.

"—We understand how you feel, but Narti is our responsibility and our responsibility alone. If anyone is going to get the chance to rip out her throat it's going to be us."

A few seconds passed by before Shiro relented with a single huff, "Fine. Team, focus on cutting down the enemy's numbers as much as possible. Be on the lookout for Haggar as well."

In the cockpit of his own ship, Lotor gripped handles of his control so tightly that his fingers had gone numb from the pressure of it all. "Ezor. Zethrid. Flank your ship closely to us, I don't want Narti cutting us off from one another even if there's so much as a single chance of that happening." From a distance the Sincline robot was barreling straight toward them, a dazzling white sword clutched tightly in its hand as it cut through ships that were firing at it. Lotor couldn't help but smile at the predictability of it all.

The holographic screen above Lotor's face blinked into life, showing Narti's face on it as she crookedly smiled at them all. "How pitiful," she spat out as the Sincline shot forward, appearing next to Ezor and Zethrid's ship far quicker than the Sincline that Lotor had created even with Allura's help. The Sincline's leg shot out, colliding with the side of Ezor and Zethrid's ship, causing it to spin recklessly until it crashed into the side of Lotor's own.

A gasp tore itself from Acxa's throat as she worked quickly with Lotor to stabilize their ship. His head was spinning as he glanced up to see the Sincline hovering in front of them. "Fire!" He shouted, his thumbs pressing down on the triggers. Beams of purple bolts fired from the ship and toward the Sincline; they collided into the armor but didn't even seem to put a dent in the thing at all.

"To think that this is what the empire has fallen to," Narti hissed as the sword dematerialized from the Sincline's hands. Its hands joined together, making a fist that it brought down onto the top of Lotor's ship. "To think that the empire could have _been_ something great." The Sincline's knee was brought up connecting with the underside of the ship; warning sirens blared throughout the interior as Acxa shouted that they had sustained damage.

"You're delusional," Lotor ground out through gritted teeth.

"I'm delusional?" Narti laughed, it was a grating sound that almost made Lotor's ears bleed. "Do you know why I sided with Honerva?" The Sincline disappeared again, reappearing on the right-hand side of the ship, delivering another backhanded blow to the hull that Lotor couldn't parry. "Because she was a visionary that saw the fallacies within the empire; she saw the disparity of the treatment that halfbreeds like us faced; halfbreeds like me faced. How we were treated like monsters and outcasts."

Lotor couldn't help himself from laughing at the lies Narti had been spoonfed. "A _visionary_?" He spat. "I'm sure she hasn't told you all the fun , creative little lies she would spin inside my father's head as I was growing up. If you think she's a martyr for the plights of Galra's with mixed heritage like us then you're far more deluded than I would believe."

"She's _atoned_ for the sins of her past," Narti snarled as the Sincline ship spun on its heels to deliver a backhanded blow to Ezor's ship as it had grown close during her rant to deliver a stream of ammunition at it.

" _Atoned?_ " Acxa's brows bunched together. "Narti, do you even hear how insane you sound right now?"

"Insane? Me?" Narti threw her head back to laugh throatily. "Have you forgotten, Acxa, that it was your own mother that sold you to slave traders? How she cast you aside? How your own father wanted nothing to do with you? Which one of us is insane for pledging loyalty to an empire that would rather forget halfbreeds like us didn't exist?"

"I never pledged my loyalty to the empire, Narti!" Acxa spat back. "Or did you forget that?"

"I haven't forgotten how we were treated by other Galra! How we were cast aside and treated like freaks! Or have all of you forgotten? Hmm? Have you Zethrid? Have you forgotten how we found you in a circus? Ezor? Don't tell me you forgot how you were nothing more than a plaything for the rich?" Tense silence passed between them all, only to be broken up by Narti's laughter. "Exactly!" She hissed. "Honerva is going to create a world where halfbreeds like us don't have to suffer. A world where pain and hurt don't exist with the help of the Alteans!"

"And how is she going to achieve that?" Lotor finally spoke up, armed with the knowledge of just how the alternate reality Alteans truly created a world of peace for themselves. "By conquering worlds and turning the masses into mindless, unfeeling puppets?" The edge of Narti's smile faltered ever so slightly. "Or did she forget to tell you that that was part of her plan?"

"You're lying!" she snarled. "Honerva is going to give them an option; the Alteans are going to give them an option. Fall in line in the name of peace or be destroyed if you interfere. And if it means destroying some or even all of the Galra to achieve it _we will_."

"And how is that any better than what my father did?" Lotor quirked a brow, causing Narti to snarl in anger as she rushed forward to attack him.

Across the battlefield, Allura was attempting to shake off a couple of Altean ships that were closely following behind her. From the corner of her eyes, she Red barrelling toward her, its maw wide open as a beam of laser fire from its mouth slicing the two ships that had been trailing behind her apart. She let out a sigh of relief, quickly thanking Keith, as she glanced around the cockpit around her.

"It would really help if you could tell me what it is you can do," Allura spoke aloud to White. Nerves rolled around in the pit of her stomach as she couldn't even feel White's voice, not like how she felt it when she had been piloting Blue. It was complicated to even put into words. But she could felt Blue's feelings thrumming through her veins like it was hers; like they were one person together. With White, she felt closed off, even though she'd done everything she felt like she was supposed to, even though she found herself currently in the cockpit able to fly White.

Glancing down her lap, she stared at the white bayard that rested there. "Hello, Princess Allura." Snapping her head up, Allura stared at the holographic screen before her. There was an Altean man projected on her screen, his skin the same shade of her own. The white ringlets of his hair fell down in curls that framed a boyish face. He looked like a carbon copy of her with the same pink, sickled shaped markings on his face. His aquamarine-colored eyes coldly bore into hers. "I would say it's a pleasure to meet my ancestor."

"May I ask who it is I'm speaking to?"

"I am Emperor Ahlan. Leader of the Altean Empire."

"Well then, Emperor Ahlan. I can assume that like I, you have no desire to see our people fight against each other in this war."

His eyes twinkled at her plea of peace. "It pains me to see my people have to put their lives on the line for the sake of peace. But if it means a necessary sacrifice must be made princess then my people understand."

Her mouth went sour at that, anger flooding her veins and making the air around her swelter with heat. "You would sacrifice your own people just for a sense of misguided peace?" Her eyes narrowed at that.

Ahlan cocked his head to the side. "Unfortunately, princess, that is where your and my philosophy differs." The hologram fizzled out of life, causing Allura to bow her head, her fingers gripping White's controls so tightly that her knuckles went pale. A bright dazzling light in the distance caught Allura's attention, she peered at it, a tiny gasp leaving her mouth as she saw the Sincline jumping through space, leaving behind tiny crags that alarmed her.

"Guys!" Allura started as worry started to course through her.

Across the battlefield, Lotor was sharing the same alarm that was slowly weaving its way through the Paladins. His eyes were focused on the little crags and cracks that started to appear in the space where the Sincline was jumping from. "Narti, stop! Do you not realize what you're doing!?" Lotor shouted as the Sincline reappeared in view. He noticed the shoulder pieces of the ship had extended, glowing a bright shade of white it finally clicked in his mind what Narti was planning on doing. "Acxa! Evasive maneuver right now!"

The shoulder pieces of the Sincline grew brighter and brighter until neither Lotor nor Acxa could see the beam of light that shot out from the Sincline…

* * *

"Narti's doing what?" The frustration in Shiro's voice was audible as the Lions flew in formation, weaving through the battlefield as they rushed to Lotor's aid.

"Um, not to be an alarmist," Pidge spoke up, "but what's the Sincline doing now?"

Eyes narrowing, Lance along with the other Paladins noticed the Sincline reappearing in front of Lotor's ship. Its shoulders were glowing a dazzling bright white that made Lance's heart leap up into his throat. Pushing the throttles a little harder than normal, Blue shot forward from the rest of the pack. Causing cries of alarm and worry to flood into Lance's ears but he wasn't paying attention to any of them. Instead, he was focused on Lotor's ship, the Sincline's shoulders growing brighter in color as Lance desperately tried to close the gap between them.

Everything seemed to slow down as he grew close enough to watch the Sincline fire off a dazzling beam of light. Blue shot forward, closing the gap between Lotor and the Sincline just as Lance slowly turned his head to gaze into Lotor's ship. From the distance, he could see the shock on Lotor's face melting into one of worry as he whipped his head around to yell something at Acxa. It made Lance's stomach drop as the beam of energy connected with Blue's side, the energy coursing through all of the circuitry as Blue's cockpit became awash in deep, danger red and numerous other colors. Electricity danced in the air, zapping from one point to the other as the energy from the blast raced up through Lance's feet and into his head. He screamed out in pain, his fingers curling as he experienced a pain that felt like strips of his skin were being torn off, his fingertips peeled back, and tacks being pushed into his skin.

The pain was indescribable. A thousand words flitted through his mind that could barely come close to being able to describe what he was feeling as Blue sailed through the air, the interior going dark as Blue flew a few yards away, crashing into the hard dirt and skidding against it as Lance's head lolled to the side, the corners of his vision going dark even as he heard the other Paladins screaming his name. For a brief second a single image flashed in his mind; a memory from early this morning when he woke up to sunlight streaming into his room. His eyes had parted open, his mind still groggy and heavy from sleep as he found himself staring at Lotor's sleeping face. Right arm tucked underneath his pillow, his left was draped over Lance's hip. Stray locks of hair and fall in front of his face like a curtain, his face was so soft and serene as he slept. Reaching out, Lance brushed his hair from his face, tucking the loose strands behind Lotor's ear. The movement caused the Galra to stir from his sleep, his eyes slipping open as a soft smile pulled at his lips.

It was the last thing that Lance saw as his eyes slipped shut and his vision went dark.

* * *

A strangled cry reverberated in Lotor's ears that he didn't realize was coming from his own mouth as his ship rocketed forward, beams of ammunition shooting from the ship that ricocheted off of the Sincline's protective field. A brazen plan churned in Lotor's head, causing him to surge up from his seat as he snapped at Acxa to keep piloting the ship, but lower the hatch door.

A fleeting look of concern appeared on her face as she reluctantly nodded her head. Watching from the corner of her eyes as Lotor left the cockpit and headed toward the hatch.

Walking toward the open hatch with his sword in his hand, Lotor could hear Acxa's voice over his communicator. "What do you want me to do?"

"Get me close enough to the Sincline as you can." His eyes narrowed. "I'll take it from there."

* * *

Allura's heart was pounding in her chest as she rushed out of White and down to the dust strewn ground before her. Cupping her hand around her mouth, she screamed out, "Lance!"

Around her dust kicked up as the other Lions settled around her. "Lance!" She could hear the sound of her own heart through her ears.

"I've been trying to get him, but he hasn't been responding!" Pidge shouted above the sounds of war that surrounded them as the other Paladins rushed toward Allura.

She was shaking as she ran toward Blue, the other Paladins closely following behind her. Sweat dripped down the side of her face as she forced her way into Blue's mouth, dropping down onto her hands and knees as she climbed her way up into the interior of the corridor, raced through the halls, until she made it to the door that sealed off the cockpit from the rest of the Lion. Slipping her fingers through the cracks, she groaned in frustration as she pulled the doors apart to reveal Lance slumped over in his seat.

She could hear Hunk gasping behind her as she raced into the room. "Is he dead?" Pidge whispered shock and dread clinging to her words.

"Lance!?" Allura desperately tried to blink the tears out of her eyes as she crouched down to grasp Lance's face in her hands. "Lance? Come on wakeup." Lightly tapping his cheeks she attempted to stir him, even as the other Paladins crowded around her.

"Lance?" Keith growled out, his voice was soft, barely a whisper as he reached out to shake the Paladin's shoulder. "Come on, man, this isn't funny. You're scaring Allura."

"Yea, Lance." Tears were slipping down Pidge's face. "Come on, the joke's over. You can get up now." He wasn't stirring. "Lance! We said the joke's over!" She broke. Turning on her heels she buried her face in Hunk's midsection, the Yellow Paladin looked just as broken as all of them as he stared at the lifeless form of his friend.

"Lance, come on, wake up." Allura kept tapping on his cheek, even as she felt Shiro's hands come to rest upon her shoulders.

"Allura," he tried to pull her away but she shrugged his touch off of her body.

"He's not dead," she snapped, still trying to stir him awake. "He's not dead." She mumbled, even as the minutes ticked farther and farther away until her touch slipped away from his smooth skin. "He's not—" the words felt thick on her tongue as her tears spilled down her cheeks. The salty brine of her tears tingling on the surface of her tongue.

Shiro pulled her up from her crouch and pulled her into an embrace as each of the Paladins mourned their lost friend.

* * *

Sailing through the air, Lotor's fingers scrambled for purchase as he slid down the Sincline. His fingers finally caught hold on a piece of metal as he forced himself to climb up until he was standing on the glass that peered down into the cockpit. Shock smeared itself all over Narti's face as Lotor brought the heel of his sword down onto the glass, causing it to shatter into a million pieces as he dropped into the cockpit, rolled with the impact and popped up on his feet.

"Oh, don't look surprised to see me, Narti. You knew this was a long time coming." He growled.

"Here to kill me for a second time?" She chuckled. "Too bad you won't get the honor."

A growl wrenched itself from Lotor's throat as he rushed toward her, his sword spinning and twisting in his hand as he leaped for her throat.

* * *

Down on the ground, dejectedly the Paladins were walking back toward their respective Lions. Allura paused as she glanced up at her own before glancing back in the general direction of Blue. Her gaze darted back to White, her fingers curling in toward her palms as she whispered, "Please if you can hear me. Tell me what I'm supposed to do."

The Lions stood still, like sphinxes that had seen the world turn for eons, civilizations come and go underneath their shadows. Allura could feel her heart lurch as she hung her head in shame as the other Paladins slowly walked back to their Lions, stewing in their own feelings even as the Lions one by one lifted their heads. Their mouths falling open as their eyes twinkled with cosmic light, six collective roars shook the air, traveling across the battlefield and causing it to fall silent for one collective breath. Allura lifted her head as a gasp built in her throat, her skin tingling as her mind was delivered to another state of consciousness that she hadn't felt since Oriande. Her eyes glowed a hot, white light as she turned on her heels and walked toward Blue.

"Um, Allura?" Pidge called out as the other Paladins watched Allura cross the desert and come to stand before Blue.

With an outstretched hand, Allura laid her palm flat against the hot sun-beaten metal and closed her eyes as particles of quintessence swirled around her. The energy swirled in her chest and radiated down her arm until she felt it leave through the palm of her hand.

Inside Blue's cockpit, the systems slowly started to blink back to life, the cockpit coming awash in a glowing white-blue light that seemed to sink into Lance's skin. The light faded and for a brief second, nothing happened, until the Blue Paladin stirred in his seat, his eyes slowly slipping open as if he had stirred from a dream…

* * *

"Okay." Lance blinked, his head was pounding and his mouth felt dry. "What the heck just happened?"

"You were dead for like three days!" Pidge blurted out, her voice sounded scratchy like she'd been crying for hours.

Lance rolled his eyes which seemed to exacerbate his headache. "Ha, ha. Funny joke, Pidge, but what really happened?"

A silence fell over all of them, only to be broken by Hunk. "She wasn't joking, buddy...you really did die."

"Shit." It was the only world Lance could blurt out.

"Yea, shit, but Allura brought you back somehow," Keith explained.

"Well," A wry smile worked its way onto Lance's lips. "I guess I really do owe you my life, Allura."

"You can pay me back once we take care of the Sincline—"

"There won't be any need for that, princess." Lotor's face popped up on the holographic screens in each of the Lion's cockpits and on the general's ships. His skin was glistening with sweat, half of his hair falling in front of his face like a curtain. Most noticeably however was the bleeding cut on Lotor's left chin and the speckled blood that covered the left-hand side of his neck and jaw. "It seems I've taken over the Sincline after the rather... _unfortunate_ and untimely death of its pilot." His words were cold as ice, but Lance had become too well as reading Lotor's facial expressions to know that he was hurting behind his mask of professionalism.

"I see." Allura swallowed. "Well, we should turn our focus to Hag—" She frowned as another transmission patched itself through to the Paladins. This time it was Coran's face, who looked a little alarmed and slightly worse for wear.

"Princess!"

"Coran, what's wrong?"

"There's an Altean warship fast approaching your location."

"You have got to be kidding me," Allura growled out as Coran's face was shoved to the side to give way for a new transmission. "Honerva." Allura's eyes darkened at the appearance of the woman.

The woman smiled, the wind whipping the loose strands of hair on her head around as she stood atop the Altean warship and peered at Allura through the transmission. "I go by my actual name now princess."

Allura rolled her eyes. "Yes, it seems many things have changed lately, but you aren't one of them."

"How callow of you, princess. I simply came to make a peace offering of sorts."

"A peace offering?" Lotor snorted derisively. "I don't think you even understand what peace is."

Haggar's eyes narrowed as she noticed Lotor sitting in the cockpit of the Sincline. "Where's Narti?"

"Unfortunately she can't be reached right now. It seems she's fallen onto a sword."

"Hmm," Honerva hummed, her eyes cold and dead. "How unfortunate."

It pissed Lotor off, the corner of his eye twitching as he snarled out the anger that rose in his throat. "You don't even care, do you? You don't even care that she so blindly believed in and followed your words and it's what got her killed."

Choosing to ignore him, Honerva turned her attention back to Allura. "I'm offering you a choice, princess. A chance to stand down; a chance to call your army back and surrender."

"And if I don't?" Allura hissed as Honerva's eyes seemed to darken.

"Then you've signed the death warrant not only for yourself but everyone allied with you."

"Then I'll think I'll have to decline."

"Very well, princess." Honerva hissed as the transmission between her fizzled into nothingness.

"Well that went well," Hunk clucked as Allura's eyes scanned the overwhelming number of forces that remained on the battlefield. She didn't want to say they were losing, but well...they were losing. "What do we do now?"

"We do what we've always done," Shiro spoke up, "we continue fighting."

Pressing the tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop the rattling that seemed to reverberate in his entire body, his lips parted. "I guess we're going after Honerva first?"

A chorus of agreements rose up as the Lions crouched on the dust-covered Earth, launching themselves up into the air with the Sincline and two remaining Sincline ships following closely behind them. Their gaze focused on the Altean warship and the open platform that Honerva was standing upon…

* * *

Taking a deep breath of the Earth air, Honerva opened her eyes slowly to stare down at the battle taking place around her. The wind whipped the stray locks of loose hair around her face as she took in the decay and carnage that swirled around her, she wondered how she would feel if she was anything like her old, younger self? Before she became like this? Before she became a hollow shell of her former self, with each waking second her shadow of who she used to be becoming paler and faint.

Would she have wept? Cried for the lives being lost in a war that was meaningless? She supposed her Altean nature would have made her feel…something. Now she felt nothing. In the distance, she could see the Sincline and its two accompanying ships and the Lions racing toward her position. It was almost predictable to the point she didn't need to see into the interior of the warship to see the other Alteans rushing around to bolster the defense systems and prepare for the incoming fire.

Letting her eyes slip shut she breathed deeply as a fleeting image of a younger Zarkon flickered in her mind before slipping through her fingers like all her memories seemed to do lately. "This will all be over soon, dear." A smile wormed its way across her face. "And then we can all be together, like one happy family." reaching out she placed the palms of her hands on either side of her and breathed in deeply as she felt the familiar tingle in her fingertips of her own warped magic surging to her skin.

This would all be over soon…

* * *

The Lions were drawing close when purple particles of energy seemed to materialize in the air and float in Honerva's direction.

"Is that—?" Pidge spoke up, her brows huddled in confusion as the sky began to darken, purple streaks of electricity coursing through the air until it struck Honerva's body like she was some sort of super battery that was charging up.

"Oh, quiznack, this is bad," Allura cursed, her teeth chewing on her lower lip as she focused intently on Haggar.

There was a flurry of questions being fielded toward the Paladins from the Garrison commanders, seeking answers to the numerous questions they were having about a phenomenon, none of them were used to.

"She's attempting to absorb the planet's quintessence." Lotor's brows rose at the insanity of it all.

"Why?" Hunk asked a question all of them were trying to understand.

"Regardless of her reasons, we need to stop her," Shiro interjected. "Team! Form Voltron!"

The Lions flew in formation. No longer just five, now they were six with Allura by their side. With practiced ease Hunk became the left leg; Lance, the right. Pidge was the left arm and Keith served as the right, but where Siro would serve as both the torso and the head of Voltron that right went to Allura who became the new torso—the new heart of the team—as Shiro took his place as the head.

Purple strikes of electricity flashed by Voltron, illuminating the bright exterior of the robotic protector. "Keith on my mark!" Allura held her bayard aloft at the same time Keith did with his. They both plunged it into the respective slots causing Voltron to swing it's right arm as its sword materialized in its hand. In it's left, a sheer white shield glowed brightly.

Standing atop the warship, Honerva pointed a single finger in Voltron's direction, causing a giant stream of electricity to curl off from her finger and shoot out toward Voltron. Lifting it's newly formed shield, Voltron deflected the blow, causing the electricity to bounce off the exterior and crash into the desert below causing dust and bits of rock to shoot into the air. Pressing forward, Voltron attempted to close the distance between them and Honerva. Two opposing Altean fighter ships appeared before them; swinging the sword in an arch, Voltron cut through the ships causing them to burst into a plume of fire and debris that it flew through.

Atop the platform of the warship that Honerva stood on, she grit her teeth, her gaze focused intently on Voltron as it grew closer. Concentrated so fully on a plan that might not even work, she didn't hear the hatch behind her open or the clang of armor and weapons as the Emperor and some of his most trusted soldiers came to stand atop the platform.

"Honerva!" She whipped her head around to see the Emperor's curls whipping around a face that was dark with fury and betrayal. "Stop what you're doing! This was never part of the plan!"

She couldn't help but throw her head back in laughter, a derisive sound that was maniacal. "I'm sorry your highness." Slowly she turned her head in his direction, causing his eyes to widen in shock as he took in the gaunt, almost sunken nature of her face. She looked absolutely mad. "But you were never truly apart of my plans."

"Guards! Arrest her!" The soldiers rushed forward, their swords held aloft until they stopped in their tracks. Beams of light and energy crackling all over their bodies as Honerva pulled their quintessence into herself, leaving behind scraps of clothing that clattered onto the platform.

"Sorry, your highness, but this just happens to be the casualties of war." Outstretching a single hand, Honerva splayed her fingers apart and watched the purple curls of electricity peel off of her fingers and shoot towards her target.

Meanwhile as all of this was going on Voltron and its allies were drawing closer. Only to see barely a minute later an empty platform, save for the rumpled clothes and weapons that littered the space.

"Where is she?" Keith hissed just as Pidge let out a little shout to gather the attention of the other Paladins to a slimmer fighter ship that pulled away from the warship that began a nosedive into the desert below.

"Ignore the warship," Shiro barked, "focus on Honerva."

Voltron followed after the fighter ship, careening through allies and enemies alike as they pursued Honerva. Especially as she pointed the ship upward disappearing amongst the darkened cloud and heading toward space. "What is she planning?" Keith's questioned as the team pushed through the darkened mass in the sky, breaking through it as they chased after her. Shock seemed to course through all of them as they realized exactly where Honerva was heading.

"Cut her off from going into the wormholes!" Allura shouted. "There's no telling what she'll do if she gets into one! Hunk!" Hunk inserted his own bayard into Voltron. Missile launchers appeared on Voltron's shoulders, jerking the robot back from the force of the launch as the two missiles chased after Honerva who dodged them both with a complicated maneuver before disappearing into the wormhole.

Still pursuing her, Voltron flew through the wormhole as well Lotor and his generals still following closely behind, surrounded by a tube of blueish-white as Allura hastily tried to patch through to Honerva. Honerva appeared on all of their screens, her face looking far more gaunt and maniacal than it had ever looked before.

"Honerva, whatever it is you're planning you need to stop!" Allura glanced nervously around her, purple cracks of lightening shooting their way into the wormhole. The shock and destabilization of the space causing Voltron to shake from the strain. "You won't even make the jump if the wormhole destabilizes to the point of no return."

That got a laugh out of Honerva, the skin around her eyes wrinkling as the maniacal smirk on her face seemed to grow larger. "I'm not planning on reaching the other side, princess. That was never my plan."

Confusion wormed itself across Allura's face, her mind slowly piecing together the disjointed fragments of a puzzle she hadn't been able to put together until now. "You're mad," she whispered as the transmission between Honerva and the Paladins fizzled into nothingness from the strain of the wormhole.

"What is she planning on doing?" There was worry in Pidge's voice.

Tongue darting out between her suddenly dry lips. Allura quickly explained everything she had just realized about Honerva's plan.

"Wait...wait!" Keith shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around what he—what they all—had just learned. "She's trying to bring Zarkon back from the dead?"

"Well, yes—" Allura shook her head, sweat rolling down the sides of her face, "—it's just a little bit more complicated than that. It's more complicated than what I did with Shiro. She's trying to harness as much quintessence as possible to essentially...rewrite the universe. Go back to a time before Zarkon's death, maybe even before this whole war began."

"I would be impressed." Pidge scoffed. "If she wasn't absolutely batshit crazy! There's no way that's possible."

"It may not be possible," Lotor spoke up from the Sinclince, "but that doesn't mean she won't stop at anything to try it."

"Well, we need to do something!" Allura snapped as Voltron experienced more and more turbulence inside of the wormhole. It was becoming difficult to breathe; difficult to even so much as lift a finger as the frequency of the lightning became more and more.

"Everyone on my count—" Shiro gritted out through tightly pressed teeth, "—insert your bayard."

Shock went through everyone at the wild suggestion. They'd never done that before, sure they knew the different combinations of weapons they could get with at least two or more of the bayards, but this? This was different.

"Shiro—" Keith tried to protest, but Shiro cut him off.

"It's our only shot at stopping Honerva. Just do it!"

The Paladins lifted their bayard's at the same time, a deep breath settling in all of them as they brought down their weapons. In the distance, a hot white glow raced through the wormhole enveloping them all.

Lance felt like he was floating as he slowly opened his eyes to see a wide, never-ending landscape before him. Stars were twinkling above his head and below his feet, he lifted a single foot causing a small ripple to spread from his action, the other rings stopping at they collided with Lance's left foot and the foot of Keith who was standing beside him. Turning his head he could see the other Paladins standing on either side of him.

The other Paladins looked just as confused as to where they were, with Hunk questioning, "Where are we?"

"You're everywhere and nowhere." A deep voice chuckled, "even with all my years I could never figure out where exactly this was. But assuming this was a plane of consciousness that only the Lions could ever reach." Lance focused his gaze on where the voice was coming from, a tall mocha-skinned man was standing before them. It took Lance a bit to put his features together until he recognized who it was—

"Father!" Allura gasped, tears shimmering in her eyes as she surged forward to hug him. "Is it really you?"

King Alfor bowed his head, pressing his face into his daughter's hair. "Hello, my little star shine. How I've missed you so."

Pulling back from the embrace, Allura and the other Paladins looked surprised to see that they weren't alone. The other Paladins of Voltron were standing beside Alfor, save of course Zarkon.

"What's—what's going on?" Allura sniffled, using the edge of her sleeve to rub at her eyes.

"Uh," Pidge narrowed her eyes, nervously glancing at the individuals beside Alfor, "who are these people?"

"The other former Paladins of Voltron," Alfor answered, a calm yet serene smile on his face.

"How are you here? How are we even talking to you—seeing you—right now?" Allura questioned.

"When a Paladin dies, a part of their consciousness transfers into the Lion they're most attached with." Alfor's eyes settled on Shiro. "I'm sure one of your Paladin's has already experienced this before." Taking a deep sigh, Alfor's gaze switched to his daughter's face. "As you can tell, the wormhole you find yourself in is destabilizing with each second. The more time you spend in it, the more you're not only exposing yourself to a quintessence overdose and the likelihood of your death becomes a reality."

"What are you saying?" Keith looked just about as shocked as all of them as Alfor bowed his head.

"We'll give you the last bit of energy that we have. It'll be enough for Voltron and a few allies to spontaneously jump out of the wormhole and down to Earth."

Lance couldn't help the scoff of shock that left him. "So what you're saying is we'll make it out of the wormhole, but what? Leave Honerva to die?"

Alfor's eyes bore into him. "The wormhole will collapse in on itself yes. But you won't be able to save everyone." Lifting a hand to softly cup his daughter's cheek, he smiled at her. "Allura. You'll only have a short window of time. Use it wisely."

In the distance that same white-hot glow radiated, quickly clawing its way toward them until they were enveloped in its warmth.

Lance gasped, waking up to an odd, warm glow enveloping Voltron. He heard someone calling his name and snapped to attention to hear Lotor's voice coming over his com unit. "Hey, I'm fine." He replied back, quickly filling in Lotor on everything that had just transpired in what felt like an eternity but had simply been a minute. The wormhole was flashing a myriad of colors as the storm cloud that was inside of it went from bad to worse.

"We need to get out of here!" Shiro shouted, turning Voltron toward the Sincline and the two ships. "I don't think Voltron will have enough energy to transport every single ship."

"Ezor and I will head to the Sincline. There should be enough energy for you guys to transport that, right?" Zethrid questioned.

"There should be." Shiro nodded his head.

Acxa, in turn, told them she would also abandon their ship and head into the Sincline. All while this was going on, Lotor was unusually quiet.

"Hey, Lotor, is everything okay?" Worry coated Lance's tongue when Lotor finally decided to respond.

"I think it would be best if Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor board one of the Lions instead."

Brows wrinkling in confusion, Lance's mouth parted open. "What are you talking about—" Eyes widening in shock, Lance watched the Sincline drift away from where Voltron floated in space and headed toward where Honerva's ship drifted in the distance. "Lotor! What are you doing!?" Lance shouted over the com unit to no reply. "Guys! We can't—"

"Don't worry, Lance," Allura cut him off. "We're not going to leave him behind. Not this time."

It took nearly a minute for Ezor, Zethrid, and Acxa to abandon ship. Making their way to Blue; Lance let them in and they crowded into the cockpit as Voltron surged forward to where Sincline was. As they reached, the wormhole and nearly went black, the pressure of it all slowing down Voltron to half of its capacity. Their teeth were gritted as they pushed forward. Lotor's face popped up on all of their holographic screens as he announced that he had finished what he had needed to do and that the team was free to make their jump out of the wormhole at any moment's notice.

With its right arm, Voltron reached out, grabbing the Sincline's arm as its wings expanded. All of the Paladin's reached out, twisting their bayards as Voltron jumped through the wormhole and into the space surrounding Earth. Just in time to watch the wormholes collapse in on themselves, leaving behind a smooth expanse of nothingness.

Lotor was silent as they all descended back down into Earth. The battlefield was still as the last enemy ship fell to the ground, a chorus of cheers erupting over all of their com units as the Earth and the Coalition claimed its victory.

"Where the hell were you guys!?" Matt sounded off over the chorus of headache-inducing cheers.

"It's a long story." Pidge couldn't help but sigh as Voltron dismantled, leaving behind the six Lions. Getting out of their Lions, the Paladins were eager to rush off and join the festivities and cheers of congratulations that were mixed among the tears. In the distance, Coran was rushing toward them, tears streaming down his face and questions bristling off of his bushy mustache as he yelled at the fact that Allura and the rest of them were safe. Beside him, the generals were the only one to notice Lotor slowly walking out of the Sincline, a thin, frail figure draped in his arms that he was slowly carrying.

"Is that—?" Acxa started to say, her mouth wrinkling as Lance slowly started to walk toward Lotor, his walk braking off into a brisk walk before turning into a full run.

Across the battlefield, Lotor couldn't help the storm of emotions that were brewing in him as he glanced down at the thin, gaunt form of Honerva that had been reduced from a figure that had struck fear in Lotor all of his childhood; that had instilled a nationalistic fever in the likes of Romelle and all who were similar to her. But now? She was nothing more than a skeleton, a mere hollowed-out doll of a boogeyman that Lotor only felt pity for her. Her gold eyes flickered rapidly in her eyes balls as if she was tracking something—seeing something that Lotor couldn't. Until her gaze sweetly fell on him, eyes full of such warmth that it made Lotor choke. "Lotor?" He looked down at her, his eyes swimming with tears just as hers started to fill. With a bony hand, she reached up to touch his cheek. Her fingers felt warm for the first time in his life. "My baby boy." She cried. "My precious baby boy." The tears were spilling a little faster now. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." She chanted the words over like a prayer. He knew what she meant. He knew she was apologizing for every single thing she had done since he'd been born. A sick part of him questioned, "what if?" What if everything had been different.

"I forgive you," he whispered back. He truly did. The people that had caused him torment for the entirety of his life, where quintessence fueled shells of the people he had once dreamed of calling parents. If anything Lotor had been born into this world as an orphan, his parents long dead before he came into this world. His father died in the rift when he had given up his own life in an attempt to save his wife. His mother, dead with the last breath she had taken to bring her child into this world.

A small smile wormed its way across her face as her eyes took on a glassy hue. "Where's Zarkon?"

"You'll be seeing father soon, mother."

Confusion colored her face as she stared deeply into his. The confusion giving away to warm memories as she stared up at him. "Zarkon, sweetie. Where are we going?"

"Somewhere nice and quiet." There was a sobbing sound coming from somewhere. It took Lotor's brain a minute to recognize that it was coming from his throat.

The smile on Honerva's face weakened slightly as her heavy eyelids slowly began to sink shut. "I hope we can go to the library. It's so nice and quiet in there." She mumbled, her eyelids slowly drifting shut as the shallow breaths that she had been taking slowly became further and further apart. Her hand on his cheek slipped down his skin until her arm hung loosely at her side as she took her final breath.

He broke.

Lotor crumpled to his knees as a choking, desperate sob wrenched itself from his throat. Hot tears spilling from his eyes that blinded his vision. His grip on his mother's corpse tightened even as Lance drew close, his lover's names falling from his lips as he dropped into the dirt in front of him, pulling Lotor close in his arms as the Galra tucked his face into Lance's shoulder, sobbing desperately as Lance stroked his hair. "It's okay," Lance whispered, "it's okay." He breathed those words into his hair, rocking him from side to side as his hand patted and smoothed down Lotor's locks. Words of comfort still being whispered to him as he cried for the first time in his life for a long time.

* * *

It'd been two weeks since the war and everyone just...took a break. As much as none of them talked about it they needed it. They all needed it. Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor had taken care of Narti's body as they had put it to Lance who had offered to do it himself. "It's our responsibility." He had relented after that and watched them wrap Narti's body in sheets and packed it into the trunk of the truck that Keith's mom had arrived in sometime after she had yelled at Keith for putting himself in harm's way like that during the battle.

His cheeks had gone pink as he tried to hide from his friends who enjoyed watching him getting chewed out like he was a little kid. She had been sitting in the driver's seat and gave Lance a small smile as he had watched the three of them loading the body into the trunk. "They'll be fine you know." She had offered as consolation.

With a bow of his head, Lance had responded. "I know."

"We'll make sure to give her a proper Galra burial." She gave him a thumbs-up as each of the generals had climbed into the back of the trunk with Keith climbing into the passenger seat. He waved at Lance as his mother put the truck into drive and drove away till Lance couldn't see the rusty, orange thing after the dip in the hill.

When Lance had found Lotor later in the day, he was still emotionally raw. They had wrapped Honerva's corpse in a blanket and placed it inside Blue. Though Lance had made every effort to apologize to the giant robot as he laid Honerva's corpse down on the spare cot in the room he had designated as a storage space of sorts.

Lotor was staring into the distance, his eyes unfocused as Lance sat down on the bench beside him. The silence built between them before Lance finally broke it with a tiny cough. "What do you want to do? I can—"

With a shake of his head, Lotor declined the offer. "I should be the one to do it."

Later that day they had buried Honerva in a corner of Lance's family home. Just beneath the giant mango tree. Lance's niece and nephew, with some understanding of what was going on, had picked wildflowers for their uncle and given it to him; he had placed them on top of Honerva's grave as tears slipped down Lotor's cheeks as he murmured that his mother would have liked it.

Two weeks had passed since that moment and Lance's family had gone through every effort to make sure that Lotor didn't spend a single moment alone during such a time. Lance's mother had made enough food for dinner for several nights that Lotor didn't leave the table hungry—especially since he had more of an appetite than Lance, seriously he wondered how Lotor put away the amount of food he could eat during lunch, much less dinner. Marco had taken Lotor rapid water kayaking when Lotor had come back soaked to the bone Lance couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of him or the comparisons to a dripping wet cat that earned him a slap on the back of his head from his mom. Luis had taken Lotor to a popular Latin American pop up food festival that occurred once a month where they lived. It was just a random collection of food stalls that served various different Latin foods. Veronica had introduced Lotor to the art of soap carving; she had told him it was a calming hobby and when Lotor had later come back to the house, placing a misshapen carved soap duck in Lance's palms he had told him the hobby was very calming.

Lance treasured the soap duck even several years later.

Those two weeks passed by slowly until one evening when Lance had walked upstairs and knocked on the door of his room. There was a soft "come in" before Lance opened the door and whistled lowly upon seeing Lotor dressed up in his armor and not Earth clothing for once.

"I forgot how hot you look in that." The compliment brought a small smile to Lotor's face. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine." Truthfully Lotor was.

Pressing his lips together, Lance looked off to the side as he carefully picked the words he wanted to say. "If you need some time to get over her death—"

Lotor shook his head. "Lance, I'm fine. I've made my peace with it."

Nodding his head, Lance ran a single hand down the front of his own armor like he was trying to brush off an invisible spec of dirt despite the fact that his mother had washed and polished the entire thing yesterday.

Downstairs Veronica called up to the both of them to tell them that they should get a move on. The meeting was going to start in 2 hours and mom was already freaking out about being on time. Lance shouted back that they'd be down in a bit. Turning back to Lotor, he held out a single hand, his palm turned upward and his fingers slightly curled. "Let's get a move on." Smiling, Lotor walked over to him, slipping his own hand in Lance's own as they headed out.

Much to his mother's surprise—she didn't really talk much as Veronica had spent much of the trip calming their mother down and pressing the occasional hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter—their trip to New York took less than an hour. And Lance had informed her that that was barely a quarter of Blue's normal speed. His niece and nephew had been wide-eyed as their curious eyes had danced around every little button and knob in the cockpit, their tiny fingers eager to touch everything they could get their hands on until Lotor had jokingly told them that if they touched anything they'd all shoot out into space. Thankfully he kept them preoccupied with adventurous stories of his childhood until they'd been sated enough to tuck themselves into their parents' side. Lance had shared a glance with Lotor and mouthed a quick thanks at him.

It took Lance much longer than he would have liked to finally locate the United Nations Assembly building in New York, but thankfully the five giant Lions parked upon silky green grass helped. Parking beside Red, his family was eager to stretch their legs on solid and stable ground as Lance and Lotor were the last to descend from Blue. Lance smiled at his friends as they approached him, each accompanied by their own family members. Sucking in his bottom lip, Lance stifled a snicker as he noticed his nephew and niece pulling at Coran's mustache as they tried to argue that it wasn't real, much to the amusement of the older Altean. Hunk's mom was happily chatting with his mother and dad, Pidge's parents were standing with Matt who was trapped within a lightly heated, yet playful discussion with Veronica about Frank Tipler's theorem about an infinite cylinder. Krolia and the generals were talking to both of Lance's brothers about some of their greatest fights as his brother's entertained them with stories of their bouts in heavyweight boxing. Lance noticed an Asian couple, the man a little bit shorter than Shiro and the woman sharing the same facial traits with him who stopped to wave at their son before joining the fray of conversation.

"This is going to be so boring." Pidge groaned, bending backward as she rubbed her hands through her hair. "Can we skip this and go tour museums instead?"

"Or maybe we could detour to Coney Island?" Hunk proferred. "And gorge ourselves on hot dogs." His mouth was nearly watering as he spoke. Pidge shot him a look as the two of them debated about which of their plans was better. Somehow they managed to rope Allura into their debate where she tried to play the mediator.

Lance couldn't help but laugh as he glanced at Shiro and Keith; he gestured to his armor. "My mom nearly broke down crying from seeing me in my armor when I came down the steps."

Keith snorted, just as Allura somehow managed to convince Pidge and Hunk that both ideas could be done at once. Though Lance wasn't certain how once could squeeze in time for hot dogs when Pidge had over six different museums that were on her bucket list to see.

Turning together as one, they all peered at the UN Assembly building, their Lions shadowing over them as Allura sighed. "Let's do this."

They headed in, to thundering applause from the UN representative members from each nation. Lance swore he saw his mother pulling out a box of tissues from her purse to dab at her dripping eyes with. He had tried to stay awake for much of Allura and Lotor's speech on the respective history of their races as well as a plan to introduce technology to all nations on Earth while forging a relationship with Earth's human species and the thousands of planets that were out there, but he fell asleep about two and a half hours in.

He didn't wake up until much later when he woke up to semi-darkness. A small pool of light covered much of his room as he stuck his hand underneath his pillow to unearth his phone. Tapping his thumb against the screen he was surprised to find that it was nearly 10 o'clock at night. Rolling over on his back, he glanced up at a shirtless Lotor who looked surprised that Lance was awake. Leaning over he pressed his lips against Lance's forward as the paladin gave him a soft smile. "How long was I asleep for?"

"Quite some time." He answered as Lance stretched in bed, causing his undershirt to just drag up over his stomach, revealing a strip of skin that Lotor was tempted to reach out and caress.

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, a sudden thought gripped ahold of Lance as he glanced nervously around his room. "Uh...how'd we get home?"

Lotor hardly looked away from the book he had in his hands. It was a trashy romance novel that Lotor had received from Veronica's collection when he had spied her reading it one evening and had asked her about it. Lance had wrinkled his nose in confusion when Lotor had mentioned that he quite found it intriguing that the two main protagonists found themselves in a forbidden love that could threaten to turn the tides of a war. "I flew us home."

"On what?" A wicked grin stretched across Lotor's face, causing Lance to roll on his stomach and rest his chin onto the palm of his hand. "Seriously, Lotor, on what?"

"Blue." Lance's eyes widened at that, a gasp ripping itself from his throat.

"She let you fly her home?"

With a nod of his head, Lotor chuckled as he withdrew the bookmark from a later chapter of the book to mark the page he had just finished reading. He pressed the book closed before setting it aside on Lance's end table. "She did." His nose wrinkled slightly. "Though she was very terrifying about it. I thought she'd eject me from the seat at a moment's notice."

"That's just her way of telling her that she likes you." Lance laughed, kissing a patch of skin on Lotor's arm. He rolled onto his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Lotor played with a lock of hair on his head, wrapping the strand around his finger, before unspooling it and then repeating the action again. He grew silent, which caused Lotor to pause in his ministration to ask him what he was thinking about.

"The future," Lance whispered truthfully. "You know when I died during that day—" Lotor looked like he wanted to protest that that wasn't what happened, but Lance stopped him. "—when I _died._ I dreamt about you, about waking up to your face in the mornings and that made me _think_." Lotor blinked at him, having resumed curling a strand of his hair around his finger. It caused Lance to sigh, pressing his eyes shut at the burning feeling that was beginning to grow in his eyes. Suppressing the urge to cry, Lance stared at his boyfriend. "You're going to be around for longer than I am."

"You don't know that." Lotor countered. "I could be pinched to death by Earth crabs."

Lance snorted, giving him a roll of his eyes. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"So am I."

Pressing his lips shut, Lance's voice dropped to a whisper when he spoke again. "You're going to live for a long time and I...I'm not. I'm going to die one day, maybe of old age, maybe of a stroke, or even cancer and you're going to be there to watch that happen to me." Tears spilled from the corner of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, pressing his eyes shut he could feel Lotor lean down to press a kiss against each of his eyelids.

"That may happen," Lotor whispered, "but none of us know what the future's going to be like. I didn't know so long ago that when I captured you I'd end up falling in love with you instead." Lance opened his eyes, tears shimmering on the surface of them. "None of us know anything about the future. Do you think when Coran was a child that he knew he'd sport a mustache? Or Hunk knew that he'd enjoy cooking?"

A giggle worked it's way past Lance's lips as he pressed a hand to his eye. "Actually Coran was born with a mustache." White brows pinching in confusion, Lance explained. "It's a long story, but the short version of it is that we all saw Coran as a baby. He was definitely born with that mustache."

Despite the explanation, Lotor still looked shocked and confused as he blinked down at Lance. "I—I really want Coran to unearth pictures of his childhood."

"You think he'll show us any of them?"

"I pray he does." Lotor fell silent as he brushed some hair out of Lance's face. It was starting to get a bit longer. "Don't worry about the future, okay? We have days and years ahead of us to fill with memories." Tapping a single finger against Lance's nose, he smiled. "And I want you in each and every one of them."

They stared at each other, silence becoming more meaningful than any words they could say to each other. Letting out a soft breath, Lotor leaned down, capturing Lance's lips into a soft kiss as Lance tilted his head back, his lips parting open to let Lotor's tongue sink in. Eyes fluttering, Lance moaned softly at the taste of mint and his mother's hot chocolate from Lotor's mouth. His tongue traced every single inch of Lance's mouth, undoing him like a complicated knot that he wanted Lotor to solve.

He hissed into the kiss when Lotor slipped a hand underneath his undershirt, touching and caressing the skin of his stomach, until his fingers daringly danced along his ribcage, causing Lance to squirm, a smile stretching across his lips from the ticklish nature of the touch. Lotor didn't linger for long as his fingers danced up to Lance's right nipple, his thumb flicking across the surface of it, drawing a soft moan from Lance's lips. With his index and thumb finger, he pinched Lance's nipple, causing him to pull back from the kiss and throw his head back against the pillow's a soft moan floating past his lips. With a shaky breath, he propped himself up as Lotor rolled his nipple between his fingers and flicked his thumb over the hardening nub. Nibbling at the thin skin of Lotor's jawline, Lance couldn't help himself from gasping as the pad of Lotor's thumb flicked his nipple again.

"Fuck," he groaned, the pleasure causing his hips to jerk ever so slightly, his skin felt warm to the touch as he nipped at the skin just below Lotor's ear that he knew drove the Galra wild. It earned him a rather hard pinch of his nipple that had him groaning rather loudly. Alarmed that he just might have injured Lance accidentally, Lotor jerked his fingers away as a confused Lance blinked at his boyfriend.

"Sorry," Lotor muttered as Lance gave him a shake of his head. Lifting a single hand, Lance pressed it to the back of Lotor's neck so that he could draw Lotor close. Pressing his lips to the side of Lotor's mouth, he pulled back slightly whispering against the skin.

"Do that again." He pulled back to see shock painted across Lotor's face that competed with the dark look of lust that was broiling in Lotor's eyes. Nervously, his tongue darted out between his lips as Lance laid back, pushing up his undershirt so that it exposed his nipples. Reaching out, he covered Lotor's hand with his own and dragged it back to his nipple before glancing up with a reassuring smile on his face.

Pinching Lance's nipple, he tested the water's, his touch growing more firm with each passing second until Lance threw his head back with a groan of, "There."

Unable to help himself from darkly chuckling, Lotor licked a stripe up Lance's exposed neck. "Who knew you liked it rough?"

"It doesn't seem like I'm the only one enjoying it." Lance wiggled his brows at the erection Lotor was sporting in his pajama pants.

Lotor smiled at that, giving Lance a sharp twist of his nipple that had his cock twitching in his pants. For a second his eyes rolled back in his head from the pleasure, he could feel Lotor's breath tickling the edge of his ear as the Galra whispered into it. " _There's a lot of things I enjoy_." He whispered, just as he flicked his thumb over the nipple again.

Letting out a throaty sigh, Lance turned his head to give a cocky grin at him. "Oh really? Then why don't you show me what you enjoy?"

Lotor's eyes went dark at the challenge, his nostrils flaring as he drew in a shaky breath. "Are you sure? Because you won't be able to tap out."

Lance couldn't help himself from smiling as he leaned forward to kiss Lotor's lips, pulling back he pulled on Lotor's lower lip with his front teeth. With a smirk, he said, "Just try me."

With a throaty groan, Lotor pressed his forehead against Lance's own. "Oh fuck," he groaned, earning him a wicked grin from Lance.

"I thought that was the plan?" Lance joked as Lotor smashed their lips together in a hurried kiss.

A hand slipping up to grip Lance's jaw, Lotor jerked his head down so that they were staring into each other's eyes. "Lay on the edge of the bed. On your back." He released his grip, earning him a confused twinkle in Lance's eyes as he slid off of the bed.

Propping himself on his knees, Lance watched Lotor from the corner of his eyes pop open the drawer of the nightstand to grab the lube. Slipping a hand into his pajama pants, he tugged it down to reveal nothing but the bare skin of his ass. Lance whistled to himself, causing Lotor to glance over his shoulder. "I didn't realize you liked going commando." Rolling his eyes, Lotor went back to ridding himself of the pants as Lance crawled down to the edge of the bed. Rolling himself onto his back, he let his head hang off the edge of the bed, his hands trailing down to touch the soft skin of his stomach and play with the curls of his happy trail as he heard Lotor pad over to the edge of the bed. There was a dip to his right as Lotor placed the lube onto the bed and walked into Lance's view.

He stared up at the steely length of Lotor's hard shaft, beads of precum shining on the purple head that had Lance licking his lips and praying to every single saint that heard him that those beads would drip down so he could catch them with his tongue. The thought had him groan, his fingers skidding down to grip at his erection. He gave it a hard squeeze as Lotor bent down slightly, his fingers pressed against the Adam's apple of Lance's throat.

"Open." It may have been a single word, but it damn sure felt like a command and Lance loved it.

Complying, he parted his lips in preparation for what was to come. Lance groaned as Lotor pushed his hips forward, just enough so that his cock touched Lance's lips. His tongue darted out, licking up the bead of precum that clung to his head. It tasted like salvation on his tongue.

Lotor groaned as he slipped his cock into Lance's mouth, the warm heat surrounding him like a furnace. "Breath normally," Lotor sighed, his hand resting against Lance's neck as he kept his thumb pressed to the Adam's apple. Pulling back slightly, Lotor thrust forward in Lance's mouth causing Lance to gasp a little before quickly remembering what Lotor had told him. He breathed normally as Lotor repeated the motion, each time he did it however, he went a little deeper as if testing the waters to see how much Lance was able to take. Moaning at the fullness he felt in his mouth, Lance's toes curled among the sheets as Lotor slowly fucked his mouth. Soft moans were falling from Lotor's lips as his cock slipped deeper into Lance's mouth, forcing his lips to part just a little more. Lance's eyes widened at the feeling of Lotor's dick breaching into his throat, coughing a little he gasped as Lotor pulled his entire length out. His cock glistened as the light from the lamp on the nightstand struck it's saliva covered surface. Strings of saliva connected Lotor's hard shaft to Lance's mouth.

Lifting a hand up to his dick, Lotor whimpered as he dragged his hand down the surface of his dick, smearing the saliva all over its length as he loosely tugged a hand up and down the length of himself. "Want me to stop?" He purred as Lance was taking shallow breaths.

"No." Lance groaned, wrapping his hand around the back of Lotor's thigh to pull him closer. A satisfied grin worked its way across Lotor's face as he gripped the base of his cock tightly to insert it into Lance's mouth. Both of them groaning at the same time as with his other hand Lotor tangled his fingers through Lance's curls. Tightly gripping it he set a steady rhythm for himself fucking in and out of Lance's mouth; eyes fluttering in pleasure as Lance hollowed out his cheeks, tongue caressing the length, the head, the slit. Every inch of silky smooth skin that he could caress with the spit slicked organ. Groaning, Lance sighed deeply as his cock twitched in his pants again, causing a brilliant and daring idea to pop into his mind. Blindly with his right hand, Lance groped around for the lube and was satisfied when he found it. Releasing his left hand off of Lotor's thigh he popped open the lube and dumped some into his hand, a few droplets splattering onto the surface of his undershirt before he capped it and tossed it somewhere down the length of his bed. Coating his fingers with the lube, he couldn't help but glance up when he felt Lotor stop his ministrations.

There was a confused smirk on Lotor's face and a twinkle in his eyes that was more than enough for Lance to understand what question was rumbling in Lotor's mind. _What are you doing?_ Lance's only response was to suck in his cheeks, earning him a soft groan from Lotor's lips. Parting Lotor's cheeks with his hands, Lance pressed a lube coated finger against Lotor's opening and slowly pushed in. If Lance had been able to see the way Lotor's eyes rolled into the back of his head in that single moment he would have died a happy man.

"Fuck," Lotor cursed, his hair falling in front of his face as he snapped his hips forward. "That's good."

Pushing his finger in it and out, Lance quickly slipped in a second finger. Teeth sinking into his bottom lip, Lotor groaned as he fucked himself into Lance's mouth only to pull out and fuck himself on Lance's fingers instead. Brows furrowed in concentration, Lance pushed his fingers a little deeper, splaying them apart as he searched for a particular spot. His fingers brushed against a slightly hardened nub that caused Lotor's hips to snap forward, pushing his dick deeper down Lance's throat, his body doubling over as Lance wetly choked, his hips pivoting up into the air as Lotor slowly pulled out with each gasp of breath that was falling from his own lips. Rolling onto his side as his fingers slipped out of Lotor's ass, he coughed a couple of times until the tingling in his throat subsided.

Lance rolled onto his knees as he felt cool fingers touch the back of his neck, pulling him forward so that a pair of lips pressed against his own. Pulling back with a smile, Lotor couldn't help himself as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. "You taste like me."

"As if that would ever be a bad thing." Lance snorted as Lotor pushed him backward. His pants were tugged down his waist till his erection was free to curve against his belly. With his long body, Lotor grabbed the bottle of lube from where Lance had tossed it and popped the cap open. He made quick work of pouring the lube into his hand and tossing the closed bottle somewhere back onto the bed.

With awed rapture, like watching the angels come to deliver a divine message to a mortal, Lance watched with flushed cheeks as Lotor lifted his right leg to place his foot on the bed. Giving Lance a better view to watch what he was about to do. With lube slicked fingers, Lotor inserted three at once into himself, his hips jerking at the sensation. It was slow and methodical as Lance watched Lotor finger himself, he was mesmerized as he watched Lotor's lips part, his head lolling to the side as his eyelids fluttered as he twisted and shoved his fingers inside of himself. Thickly swallowing, Lance couldn't help but sigh as he reached down to palm at his erection, his fingers wrapping around the length, giving himself a few hard tugs when Lotor's eyes fluttered open, a flirtatious smirk working its way on his face. With a soft sigh, Lotor groaned at the loss of sensation as he pulled his fingers out of himself.

Wordlessly Lance went about quickly finishing the rest of the preparation. Grabbing a condom from his nightstand, slipping it onto himself, and slathering his cock with lube.

Pressing a hand against Lance's shoulder to steady himself, Lotor kneeled over Lance's lap. Using his left hand to steady Lance's erection as his right spread his cheeks apart. "Oh fuck!" Lance hissed as the Galra slowly lowered himself down, he didn't miss the way Lotor's lips parted, the stuttering of his breath, or the roll of his eyes as he lost himself in the pleasure. Lowering himself down until Lance was buried deep inside of him, Lotor's hips jerked forward, his arms wrapping around Lance's neck causing Lance's brows to arch up in surprise as his boyfriend's hips stuttered back and forth, a low moan rumbling in Lance's ears as Lotor's entire body twitched and jerked around in Lance's lap.

"Did you just—?"

"It's been a while since I've been on the receiving end," Lotor grumbled as Lance began to chuckle.

With a wiggle of his eyebrows he couldn't help but joke, "Are you sure it's not because of my magical dick?"

Lotor gave him a sassy look. "Galra's tend to have a higher sensory capacity than humans."

Lance hummed, leaning forward to press kisses against Lotor's collarbone. "So in other words...my dick was so good that it made you have a dry orgasm?"

With a roll of his eyes, Lotor conceded. "Yes, your dick was that good that I had an orgasm, happy?"

"Very." Pressing his hands on either side of Lotor's hips he watched enraptured as Lotor lifted up his hips to ride him. He threw his head back, not even caring that it smacked into the wall and would leave a tender bruise later. Lips parted, he groaned as Lotor set a pace he was comfortable with. Riding and grinding his hips in such a manner that Lance swore the bright lights that appeared in the corner of his eyes were the gates to heaven themselves.

His impending orgasm was clawing at his skin, the skin around his stomach and groin tightening as the ball of hot heat inside of his grew to an unbearable size. "I don't think I'm going to last long." He groaned as Lotor muttered something about it being fine, with his own hand he grabbed one of Lance's and dragged it to his weeping cock. With calloused hands, Lance gasped as Lotor quickened the pace, his own hand tightening around Lotor's erection as he set an erratic pace in an attempt to jerk Lotor off to an orgasm.

Stars were shining in his eyes as he bit down on his lower lip, his orgasm coursing through his veins as Lotor rode him through him it. The cock in his hand twitched, Lotor crashing their lips together as Lance squeezed and twisted his hand as cum shot out on his stomach and dribbled onto the back of his hand. Pulling back slightly, they pressed their foreheads together, the only sound in the room the soft and slow breaths that left their bodies.

"I love you," Lotor whispered out into the universe. As a response, Lance leaned up, kissing his lips as he conveyed that he felt the same.

The next few days after that were peaceful as Lance's family really enjoyed Lotor's company. They threw a giant party that Lance invited the rest of the Paladin's and their family too, of course, Pidge couldn't stop herself from gagging when she saw Lotor lovingly feeding Lance bits of _lechon asado_ with a fork. Matt had to drag her away laughing as he claimed that one-day Pidge would find herself doing the same thing when she was in love. To which she stubbornly declared that she would marry her work instead.

One day, Lotor told Lance that they should get to bed early as he had something that he wanted to show him. He had shared a knowing look with Lance's mother and father and as much as Lance bugged him in an effort to learn what the surprise was he refused to budge. So early one morning, when the birds hadn't even started chirping and the sky was just starting to lighten, Lotor woke Lance up from his sleep and urged him to throw a thin jacket over his pajamas. They left the house and flew out on Blue—with Lotor piloting of course because Lance was too tired to even fly Blue in a straight line. He took them to a beach, the waves lazily lapping at the sand that was cool to the touch as Lance buried his feet into the coarse mixture.

The two of them sat down on the sands, a blanket draped over their shoulder that Lotor had grabbed on his way out of the house. They were huddled together, Lance's head resting on Lotor's shoulder as the sky painted itself in hues of orange, pink, and gold. The sun slowly peeking its head over the horizon to cast golden hues of light everywhere it touched, lighting the water up and casting gold flecks down on it that took both of their breaths away as they deeply breathed in the tangy scent of the ocean.

Shifting his hand slightly, Lance smiled as Lotor entwined their hands together and watched the sun rise in the horizon. Unable to help himself from thinking about the future, Lance's eyes danced with light as he realized it was unknown to both of them. They sure as hell didn't know what would come next and neither of them knew if they'd be together forever down the road, but they didn't care so long as they had each other in the moment. They'd worry about what would come next and instead focus on taking each day at a time. They'd build their own path with their hands one step at a time.

And that was fine with both of them.

Just so long as they had each other to do it by their side.

* * *

 **A/N: Someone on Ao3 asked me about my choice of making Allura the heart of Voltron when it was formed, so I'm going to just post my answer here in case anyone else was wondering why I chose to do so:**

 **I think I may have brought it up in a previous chapter, but Allura told Lotor or some other character that Lance had once referred to her as the "heart" of Voltron, but she deflected that idea. I sort of wanted to bring a call back to it as Allura really is the heart of Voltron so that's why she becomes the chest of it with her own Lion and Shiro takes the head because he's the most rational and calm of all of them.**


	22. Epilogue

**A/N:** It's...over. I have a tendency to rarely ever finish fics that I start, especially long fics. But...this one is finally done.

Originally I started this fic as a big middle finger to the Voltron series. Especially after the ending of season 6. But most importantly the way the show treated Lotor and his arc, especially to the fans who cheered and applauded the way Lotor's arc toward the end of season 6 and his eventual death were treated. I had felt disgusted and sick at a series that I once love, crashing and burning so badly that I felt like Ron Swanson watching everything he had ever loved burning in a garbage fire. So as a fuck you to the creators I decided to write this fic (also because I'm lancelot trash and at the time a lot of lancelot was very...non con, used lancelot as a stepping stone for other ships, or just wanted Lance to suffer...which not to say those fics were bad. They just weren't the brand of tea I was looking for).

But now we're here at the end. And I really want to say thank you to each and every one of you who clicked on this fic, gave it a chance, left likes and comments to tell me how you felt about a particular chapter, characters, scenes, or even gave some critique. Without you, you wouldn't have been the driving force to get me to even finish this fic! But just like the Paladin's journies are over, so is ours. So without final ado, here's the final chapter. The epilogue. Lance and Lotor's final love letter.

Thank you so much for being with me on this journey!

"Our stories may be singular but our destination is shared." -Barack Obama.

* * *

Fingers drumming against a dark desk, Lotor flicked through the pages of data that he was combing through. He'd been at this for hours as he'd only managed to make it through a portion of the progress reports that monitored the growth of the terraformed planet that the Galra now called their home. A new district had just been built in the south, sprawling towers of twisted metal and glass that promised to house dozens of couples and families.

The text gave way to images that Lotor found himself peering at as a knock on the door to his office pulled his attention away from the task at hand. His lips had just parted to call out to his unseen visitor when his nose wrinkled in annoyance as the door was pushed open and a teenage girl poked her head into the room. Her skin was a rich brown color, her eyes as blue as the sea, and long white hair flowed down from her head as she smiled wickedly at him. He sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose as he wondered how his daughter managed to look so much like Lance, yet inherited much of her personality from him.

"Are you coming? We're going to be late to see dad."

"Give me a second," he responded, waving to the datapad in front of him. "I just need to finish this up and I'll come out soon." She rolled her eyes at him, narrowing those blue pupils at him as if to say _you better not take too long_ before pulling the door shut, leaving him alone in his office. Shutting off the datapad, he rose from his desk and paused to glance at a photo on the corner of it.

It was a proper picture in a silver frame that Lance had given him. He couldn't understand the novelty of having technology that seemed so obsolete, but Lance had been charmed by it and it had given it to Lotor as a thoughtful gift so he kept it in his office. It was a picture taken quite some time ago of Team Voltron and friends. Lotor had his arm tossed around the shoulders of a clearly older Lance who was grinning wickedly as he held up his index and middle fingers behind Pidge's head. Her hair had grown significantly in length, almost to the point that it reached her back. Her body had finally filled out after years of Pidge lamenting that she was cursed to look like Benjamin Button. A lab coat had been thrown over a pair of slacks and a flowy blouse, the logo of her family's robotic firm on it. Matt stood beside her, his hair had grown considerably enough to be tied back into a ponytail. On the other side of Lotor stood Ezor and Zethrid; Ezor had her arms thrown around Zethrid's neck who held her love bridle style in her arms, beside them stood Acxa who smiled softly in the picture. Beside them was Hunk, the Yellow Paladin's hand pressed protectively against Shay's swollen stomach that housed their unborn child. A crown of golden flowers rested upon her head. To her left, Keith looked happy, a blush on his cheeks as Shiro leaned against him their shoulders touching and a loving smile on his face. They wore matching wedding rings on their fingers. To their left stood Coran, there were tears shining in his eyes that had Lotor snorting as he remembered how Coran couldn't stop crying tears of joy during as they attempted to take the photo. Allura stood next to him, her hands entwined with her husband. Both of them dressed in finery befitting Altean royalty as they all stood in front of the newly constructed statue that commemorated the 10 year anniversary of the battle that took place on Earth. The photo had been taken on the new colony that Allura had quickly dubbed "Neo Altea" after the dust and complicated matters had finally settled. The Lions of course were depicted in the background of the photo.

Running his fingers along the top of the frame, Lotor quickly strode out of his office, letting the door shut softly behind him as the sunshine dazzled brightly on the photo on his desk.

* * *

Lance could barely contain the giddy nervous energy that was radiating off of him in waves as he walked beside Lotor. He was accompanying Lotor on checking the progress of some construction that had finally just completed. New families and couples had been relocated to the planet in droves as the planet had finally become sustainable to support life and construction on homes had just finished. It was a year after the war at this point and progress with the planet had just started to ramp up as Lotor strolled through a section of what was to be the planet's capital city. Pointing into the distance, Lotor told Lance that there were some smaller isles that would be connected by long expansive bridges after he and his scientists had made the surprising discovery that there patches of water beneath the planet's surface that would rise up to make seas and oceans on the planet once the terraforming would begin.

Lance's barely contained glee at the news had been infectious when Lotor had told him about it. So infectious that Lance had thrown Blue into autopilot and all but dragged Lotor into the quarter's so that he could toss him down on the bed and sink to his knees just so that he could take Lotor into his mouth.

"What are you thinking about?" Lotor was pulled from his thoughts to find Lance curiously smiling at him.

"You taking me into your—" A deep blush settled on Lance's cheeks as he clapped a hand over his mouth as a Galra couple politely inclined their heads at their Emperor and the Blue Paladin. A look of curiosity burning in their eyes at the odd scene before them.

"God, you're so filthy," Lance muttered, wrinkling his nose as Lotor dragged a wet tongue across the palm of his hand. He jerked it away, wiping his now wet hand on the back of his pants as Lotor chuckled.

"I thought you liked me that way." Lance rolled his eyes.

They walked for quite some time until reaching the building that had just finished construction. It was an impressively tall building, that was made of twisted glass and metal. Standing tall and proud in the sky so that Lance had to tip his head back to take in the full magnitude of the building that would house so many different people in it. A young family was standing outside, their arms were laden with some smaller trinkets and possessions as their larger material things and furniture were being carried inside. They looked surprised when Lotor and Lance drew close. Deep blushes settling on their faces as they quickly tried to look for a place to set down their things so that they could salute the emperor, with a chuckle Lotor dismissed the formal pleasantries aside as the couple and their two young children greeted their leader and the Paladin at his side.

The mother bowed her head, stating how much of an honor it was for the two to grace them with their presence. Though the mother cast a furtive glance at Lance as she remarked that it was a little bit more surprising to see the Blue Paladin of Voltron standing before them and questioned if he was on a diplomatic mission of sorts.

Lance chuckled at that and hooked his thumb in Lotor's direction. "No, actually I'm with Lotor."

Confusion colored her face. "With...Lotor?"

Quickly butting into the conversation, Lotor supplied an explanation. "The Blue Paladin is simply accompanying me here as an act of faith between the empire and the coalition." A smile widened across her face as she nodded in understanding. A polite conversation built up between the two as Lance stewed beside him, giving short and clipped answers whenever he was asked a question. Quickly bidding goodbyes, Lance and Lotor walked away from the family to leave them to their own devices.

There was a tense silence between them that built up the farther they walked until they were both far enough from anyone else who might have a chance to overhear their conversation. "What the fuck was that?" Lance snapped.

"What was what, Lance?"

Spinning on his heels, Lance glared daggers at Lotor. "Don't do that." Lance hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "That back there, where you clearly tried to hide our relationship."

Lotor rolled his eyes, his action only further pissing off Lance more. "Because it was necessary to do so."

Lance bristled at his words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

With a huff, Lotor felt that Lance was being ridiculous at the moment. "I'm not ashamed of our relationship if that's what you're trying to imply. But the last time anyone knew about it, you nearly were assassinated. I would rather avoid such a situation again by not letting our relationship be so publicly known about. If you were anyone else I wouldn't have to take such a precaution."

Lance jerked back as if Lotor's words had been a slap in the face. They might as well have been.

"Anyone else?" Lance hissed. "So you'd be fine having a public relationship if I was _anyone_ else ?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean? Would you be happier if you weren't dating someone who was human?" Lance sneered. "Maybe dating someone who was a Galra would be better." Lance's words were like nails to the heart.

Lotor's face heated up at the accusation. "At this moment I'm thinking that _suggestion_ would have been well heeded in the past."

Lance jerked back, his eyes watering as he looked utterly devastated at Lotor's words. They had been meant to make him hurt and he'd done the job well. "Well, maybe you should act on that suggestion." Lance hissed, turning on his heels before Lotor could even so much as apologize.

Lance had taken Blue and headed back to Earth, finding himself knocking on a thick wooden door that a tiny driftwood plaque hanging off of it with the name Ala'alatoa burned onto it. Lifting a fist, Lance knocked his bare knuckles against the wood and wasn't surprised when he heard the locks on the door twisting and the door pulled back to reveal Shay standing before him. There was concern on her face as she quickly took in Lance's tear-stained cheeks and turned her head to call Hunk's name. Hunk came rushing out of the kitchen, his mouth open as he wrung his hands dry on the apron tied around his waist.

"Oh shit, Lance, come in."

Lance quickly thanked Shay as he stepped into their apartment. Green plastic vines were hung up on the walls, with various white crystals carefully placed on shelves and parts of tables to create an almost junglelike atmosphere that reminded Lance of the Balmera. Their apartment was homely though, as Lance could smell a whiff of something sweet and spicy wafting out of the kitchen.

"Lance, what happened?" Hunk's brows were pinched in confusion as Lance broke down sobbing.

"I think Lotor and I broke up."

Hunk looked alarmed, quickly telling Shay that they'd be in the kitchen. There was a look of understanding on her poor, sweet face as Hunk quickly steered Lance into the kitchen and sat him down at the table. He managed to get a steaming mug of tea between Lance's hand as Lance told him everything that had transpired that lead him up to being in Hunk's apartment.

The door to Hunk's apartment was thrown open, a revolving door of open arms and Hunk's explicit permission that his place was just as much his home and Shay's as it was for his friends. Pidge came flying into the kitchen, her hair now slightly longer yet just brushing her shoulders. She had grown slightly taller and there were budding curves to her shape as her body started to come into its own. Her nails were painted a shade of blueish black that she had invited as she had once told Lance that if she was going to wear makeup she'd rather invent it herself. She took one sweeping look between Hunk and Lance, dragging in a deep breath, her nostrils flaring in anger as she narrowed her eyes. "Do I need to cut Lotor's dick off?"

Through tear-filled eyes, Lance quickly explained to her what had happened as Hunk grabbed her a mug of tea as she took a seat at the table.

A deep sigh released itself from Hunk's body as he tapped his fingers against his own mug. "I know you and Lotor are hurting; you're both under a lot of stress, but I can understand why Lotor is approaching your relationship the way he is."

"Hunk!" Pidge hissed, though he held up his hands to hold the tell her to hold off on the tongue lashing she was ready to unleash.

"The best course of action," Hunk continued, "is for the two of you is to talk your relationship out. You know when the both of you are in the right mental space to do so."

Lance drained his tea as Hunk and Pidge updated him on the things that were going on in their lives. Hunk was considering proposing to Shay sometime next month and Pidge was speeding her way to getting her degree since the government decided to overlook the fact that she had impersonated her way into the Garrison program and essentially contributed to saving the planet. They made jokes and did everything they could to cheer Lance up and keep his mind off of thinking about his and Lotor's relationship.

When their tea was done, Lance stood up and hugged Hunk. "Thank's for being such a great friend, dude."

Hunk had laughed, patting his hand against Lance's back. "Any time."

Pidge invited Lance over to her house, her parents were going to be working late and it was just going to be her and Matt ordering a pizza and watching cheesy movies. He thanked her and promised he would drop over. He really didn't feel like going to his apartment just yet and he didn't want to be alone either.

He went over to the Holt's; Matt delighted to see him as he welcomed him in. They watched some old-time movies, with Matt pointing out some shaky camerawork and Pidge making fun of all the bad special effects as they munched on pepperoni, cheese, and bell pepper pizza.

A few days had gone by with Lance not hearing from Lotor. He found himself sitting aimlessly in the living room, his leg tucked underneath the other, and a cold mug of coffee resting on the coffee table that had gone untouched. Kova mewled, jumping onto Lance's nap and curling itself up into a ball. Lance smiled down at the cat, scratching behind its head, causing it to purr and rumble in his lap.

During the war, Lotor found Kova miracuously alive in the Sinclince after everything had settled and Lotor could remember that he had seen the cat during Narti's transmission. Lotor feeling affection for a cat that had been his only friend for much of his childhood had taken the cat in. Just like Lance, the cat had spent much of his time in Lance's family home to the delight of Veronica and his niece and nephew. Before Lance had moved to Texas and gotten his own apartment. The cat sometimes stayed there or on Dibazaal whenever Lance knew he was going to be there for a lengthy amount of time and wouldn't be back at his apartment soon.

His thoughts were interrupted by a rapid series of knocks on the door. Standing up, Kova let out an annoyed mewl as the cat landed on its feet and went to curl up somewhere else in the apartment. Lance glanced at the open balcony doors, the scent of the ocean wafting in as a soft breeze rustled the curtains. The knock came again, causing Lance to huff. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" He quickly crossed through the living room and reached the door, throwing it open and jerking back with surprise to find Lotor standing in front of him. Dressed head to toe in Earth clothes.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." Lance held the door open a little wider, allowing Lotor to step in. Walking in, Lotor shoved his hands into his pocket, turning as Lance closed the door and walked back into the room. Hands crossed over his chest as he tried to be casual despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Neither of them talked, the only sound the rustling of the breeze filtering into the apartment and Kova snoring peacefully on top of a basket full of blankets. "You know," Lotor started, "you're the first person I've ever truly fallen in love with in my entire lifetime. So I want to protect you as much as I can." Nervously he licked his lips. " My position as Zarkon's son never allowed me to experience the intimacy that I've had with you. So when I woke up that one night to see an assassin ready to murder you, I feared not for my life but yours." Tears slip down his cheeks. "I wasn't ready to deal with the possibility of losing you and when you left it felt like a piece of me left with you."

A soft sigh rushed out of Lance's mouth as he quickly crossed the distance separating them and pulled Lotor into his arms. "I'm sorry for what I said back there. I didn't understand your point of view until I had some time to think about it." He pulled back, cupping Lotor's face between his hands. "I'm fine with keeping our relationship on the down-low if it means protecting me right now. But I don't want our relationship to be hidden in the closet forever."

Pulling back from Lance's touch, Lotor shook his head. "No. I think it's best if we confront my fear together."

Brows pushing together in confusion, Lance frowned. "What does that mean?" He questioned as Lotor clasped his hands in between his own.

"It means I want to tell the empire—the whole universe—about us."

Lance let out an exclamation of surprise at the situation as Lotor lifted him up off of his feet and into his arms. A smile stretched across his face as he leaned in to kiss Lotor passionately. Even as both of them toppled to the floor in a breath of laughter and sweet kisses.

Even as that laughter turned into something more that involved them ripping the clothes off of each other's bodies with Lance squirming as he rode Lotor's cock to Kova at one pointing lazily opening a single eye to stare at them judgmentally before falling back to sleep.

Both of them were laying sweatily on the floor as Lance tapped Lotor's toned stomach with his fingers. "It was about time we christened the living room." He breathed breathlessly.

Lotor's only response was to take Lance's hand in his own and kiss his fingertips one by one.

* * *

Lotor's daughter was humming as she walked beside him. Their hands were entwined together, although just a few weeks ago she had wrinkled her nose in disgust as he had held his hand out toward her, causing her to remark that she was too old to be seen holding her father's hand.

"Is your brother already there yet?" She nodded her head.

In the distance, a Galra and Altean couple were walking hand in hand. Smiles and laughter drifting off of them as they walked down the street. It brought a smile to Lotor's face as another memory unburied itself from Lotor's mind.

* * *

Laughter filled the air as Lance clutched his stomach, watching Lotor hold his slushie away from him like it was a radioactive, ticking time bomb. His nose wrinkling in disgust as he learned just what exactly was in it. "How exactly have humans managed to live this long without killing themselves on processed sugar?"

Lance snorted, grabbing Lotor's hand so that he could bring the slushie closer to his own mouth. He slurped some down, despite the faux look of shock on Lotor's face. Sticking his now blueberry stained tongue at Lotor, his laughter was cut short by the sharp rings of Lance's phone. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, Lance dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone to see Keith's face on the surface of his phone. He tapped the call button, causing Keith's face to appear on his screen. Hardly surprised to see Lotor standing next to him, Keith nodded his head in greeting.

"Lotor."

"Keith."

Rolling his eyes, Lance waved at Keith. "What's up? You don't usually call this late." Frowning, a soft blush appeared on Keith's cheeks, causing Lance's eyes to narrow. "Keith...what happened?"

Keith wouldn't say over the phone, but Lotor had offered to head back to the apartment so that Lance could travel to Keith's family home. Lance made it there in record time, Krolia hardly surprised to see him standing there when she threw open the door. "Keith! Lance is here!"

Barreling down the stairs, Keith invited Lance up to his room as his mother made a joke of turning on some music much to Keith's embarrassment who yelled back that it wasn't even like that.

"So…" Lance drew the word out as he bounced down onto Keith's luxuriously soft bed.

Without any tact whatsoever Keith rambled out, "I think I might be gay."

Lance couldn't help himself from bursting out laughing. Keith grabbed a pillow off of his bed and chucked it at Lance's head as he began coughing from the hysterics of it all. "I'm so sorry," Lance hiccuped through tears. "You just said that so suddenly and out of the blue." Using the tips of his fingers, he wiped stray tears from his eyes. "Alright, what happened to you know...come to this conclusion?"

Cheeks rapidly turning red, Keith buried his face into his hands and mumbled something Lance couldn't hear.

"I'm sorry, do you mind speaking up."

Keith mumbled again.

"Buddy, I'm going deaf here. You got to repeat that."

Keith pulled his heads out of his hands quickly blurting out, "I had a wet dream about Shiro," in one single breath.

Eyes widening in shock, Lance couldn't help himself from snickering, "Oh? And did you ride Shiro's Lion to get off?" Keith threw another pillow at Lance's head at the mention of the thick, black dildo Lance had stumbled across one evening while online shopping for some risque toys for him and Lotor to use. He had come across it and quickly snickered, reading the product description that had described the dildo as being thick and veiny, a good solid seven inches long and impressively thick with the impressive name of Black Lion. The product by-line had read:

 _For the more adventurous who want to know what it feels like to be tamed by a wild beast._

Who knew there were people out there who wanted to know what it was like to get off on unofficial Voltron merch? There had even been dildoes for the other Lions. Lance had quickly unburied his phone from between the couch cushions, taken a snap of it and sent the pic off to Keith who had responded with the emoji of a bloody knife.

He laughed, though the next time they had met up Keith had been unable to look him in the eye during much of their conversation and it didn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together to realize that Keith had definitely bought the dildo.

"Oh shut up," Keith mumbled as Lance cleared his throat.

"Seriously though, jokes aside, you tell Shiro about this?"

"No!" Keith roared, "how would you even start the conversation?" He rolled his eyes as he gave a curt wave to Lance. "Hi, Shiro! I had a wet dream about you the other day and fucked myself on a dildo while thinking about you. Also, I think I'm gay and totally in love with you!"

Curling his lips into his mouth, Lance dragged in a deep breath to keep himself from laughing but ultimately failed as Keith's face went red. "Okay, okay, okay." Lance chanted over and over, trying to force every bit of laughter out of himself as he hiccuped and wiped tears out of his eyes. "Yea that would be...out there. Have you found yourself thinking about any other guy besides Shiro though?"

Keith shook his head, causing Lance to strike a pose and wink at him. "Come on! Not even me?"

"Go jump into a lake, Lance."

"Alright," Lance sighed, "maybe you're just attracted to Shiro only."

The gears in Keith's head were churning. "Just...attracted to Shiro?"

Lance nodded. "Yea you know. Like you're subconscious is trying to tell you that you only get the hots for Shiro and Shiro only. I don't know, sexuality is pretty weird sometimes."

"What about Lotor?" Keith questioned.

"What about him?"

"He and you seem to have your sexuality figured out."

That caused Lance to tip his head backward in laughter. Placing a hand flat against his chest, Lance told him, " _I_ have my sexuality pretty much pinned down for quite a while. Lotor—" He shrugged, "—well, Lotor told me that the human race wouldn't be able to comprehend his sexuality into a single finite word, so he doesn't choose to label himself and that works for both of us just fine. I don't know what to tell you, sexuality is just really weird and either you figure it out, don't, or just end up not caring what anyone thinks about you."

Keith looked to be mulling over Lance's words. "Lance…"

"Yea?"

"Thanks a lot. Like I mean really...for you know...helping me out."

Lance nodded, letting a comfortable silence build between them until Lance cut through it. "So the Black Lion, huh?" He wiggled his brows. "Is it true as the reviews say? Does it really feel like having Shiro's dick—" Keith threw another pillow at Lance's face, knocking him off of the bed.

* * *

Nearly two years later and Lance and Lotor were snuggled up onto the couch. The television was playing some alien quiz game show that Lance didn't understand the gist of, though Lotor found it funny, so that was enough for him. In his hand, Lotor was twirling a cream-colored slip of cardstock paper that they had received earlier in the day. Lance caught him doing it again out of the corner of his eyes and laughed as he leaned forward, snatching the remote off of the coffee table to pause the show.

"Alright, seriously, what are you doing?"

Raising a single brow as if he didn't know what Lance was talking about, the Paladin huffed as he playfully plucked the wedding invite out of Lotor's hands. "You've been so enamored with this thing—" Lance waved the invite in his hand, "—since we've got it."

Lotor plucked it back. "I'm just so intrigued that humans can spend so much time and effort on mundane things that aren't even related to the actual wedding." Sticking his tongue at him, Lance glanced at the golden letters on the invite as they caught on the living room light. Keith and Shiro's names were printed onto the invite in neat, golden cursive.

Below it was the date of their upcoming nuptials and the location of the Shinto shrine that their wedding was being held in Meguro City, one of Tokyo's 23 wards. Huffing, Lotor tore his gaze away from the invitation and focused on Lance instead. "Tell me why I can't wear my armor to this thing?"

Laughing, Lance grabbed a jelly bean out of the bowl of jelly bean and popcorn mixture he had made and threw it at Lotor's face. Opening his mouth, Lotor caught it and chewed slowly as Lance explained that as much as he would love to see Lotor wearing his armor again, some Earth traditions just couldn't be messed with. Instead, he told Lotor that they had to get suits in a couple of months, so they'd have enough time to get alterations if necessary before the wedding. As the day before the actual wedding, they needed to be in Meguro so Shiro could show them around his hometown.

As Lance had foretold they went to go try on suits, Lance already settling on a dark blue suit that he had seen that looked black in just the right amount of light yet blue if you squinted hard enough. He had looked up when the door to Lotor's dressing room had opened and the Galra stepped out with his hair tied up in a ponytail wearing a matte, black suit that had Lance twitching in his pants as he mentally willed himself to not get hard in the store.

"How do I look?"

Lance took a step forward, pressing a quick kiss against Lotor's lips when no one else was looking. "I want to fuck you when we get home." Lance all but growled into his ear. They quickly paid for their suits and all but urged the tailor to hurry through his explanation that they had to come in for their final fitting in a month once they altered the suits carefully to their exact measurements. Confusion filling his eyes when Lance had swiped his credit card, punched in his pin and rushed out of the store without so much as waiting for the receipt to print.

He and Lotor had crashed through their apartment door, already trying to tear the clothes off of each other's bodies as he shoved Lotor up against the wall and fucked him in the ways that he knew got him off.

The day before the wedding came, Shiro laughing and hugging his friends as Keith was blushing somewhat fiercely beside him. Lance had dragged him into a hug, making wedding night jokes all the while as Shiro took them on a tour around the city. They had gone to an arcade, where Lotor had been swamped by a bunch of schoolgirls who had taken a bunch of pictures with him. Shiro had been laughing the entire time as the schoolgirls squealed and had spoken in rapid-fire Japanese at Lotor and then Lance when they had noticed him.

He had taken them to a conveyor belt sushi place where Lotor had been confused at what he had called the "barbaric eating utensil" that they had to eat with before Shiro taught him how to quickly hold chopsticks to eat his hamburg sushi with.

The day of the wedding came and everyone was cheering as Shiro and Keith sat across from each other, sipping sake from cups that seemed to grow in size until the Shinto priest spoke and called upon the gods Izanagi and Izanami to bless the union before them. With the rest of the wedding ritual following right after, including the exchange of the rings. They both headed outside after the actual ceremony was over where friends and family scattered sakura petals over them, which clung to the dark coats of their kimono. Lance was cheering loudly, his hands clapping together as his friends bowed their heads and started to lead the group to the wedding reception. Turning, Lance looked surprised to see Lotor smiling softly at him. "What?" He chuckled, even as Lotor murmured that it was nothing and held his hand out so that Lance could take it.

They went home after all the wedding festivities had been dealt with.

Lance had to be convinced to get out of his button-up shirt and pants, despite being even too tired to move. "Can't you just do it for me?" He whined as Lotor was making quick work of his shoes.

Somehow they both managed to get into their nightclothes and tucked into bed. Lance was already drifting off to sleep as he murmured, "I think I'd like a wedding like that one day." He was out like a light when Lotor rolled over to press a kiss to his cheek. His mind already whirring with plans as he couldn't find it in him to fall asleep.

An hour later he carefully slipped out of bed to put his plan into motion.

A few weeks later and Lance had woken up to find a breakfast tray resting on his nightstand. He sat up, bringing it into bed when he finally noticed the folded corner of a piece of paper that had been slipped underneath the plate. He dug it out to unfold it and find Lotor's neat scrawl written out with a purple inked pen. Wrinkling his nose, Lance thought, _that romanticist_ , as he read through the contents of the note to find that Lotor was going to be out for the most of the day on official duties, but that he'd be back later in the evening.

Looking down at the meal before him. There was a small bowl of mermaid smoothie, edible flowers artfully arranged amongst the strawberries, blueberries, kiwis that had been cut into hearts resting atop the blue fruity concoction. There was a small plate of buttermilk cornbread muffins, with a smeared streak of butter and jam that had been dragged to create a two-toned heart on the plate. In the middle was a plate of heart-shaped eggs and a side of bacon that was cooked to Lance's liking. It made him smile as he remembered the first time Lance had attempted to make Earth food and had produced a grey glob that Kova had hissed and Lance swore had taken a breath when Lotor wasn't looking.

He dug in. When he had finished he washed everything up and made himself a second cup of coffee for the day as he went about cleaning the apartment from top to bottom, before deciding to tackle the laundry. It wasn't until much later when Lotor walked through the apartment door with a smirk on his face and a box of confectionary goodies that he had procured from the space mall.

He tossed himself onto the couch as Lance dug through the box, fine granules of sugar-coating his lips as they settled on watching a Spanish soap opera. Lotor had leaned over to kiss the sugar off Lance's lip and at some point they had become more interested in each other than the rich, hot girl on tv finding out she'd been sleeping with her long lost cousin the entire time.

* * *

Lance's birthday was already knocking on everyone's door sooner than Lance himself even realized. Trying to stifle his laughter as his face was burning up with embarrassment as he avoided gazing down at the cake that graced the table he and his friends were sitting at in a rather upscale restaurant.

"Pidge!" Hunk looked quite distressed as Pidge crossed her arms triumphantly across her chest. The numbered candles that read: 24 flickered in the thankfully somewhat dark establishment as Pidge jutted her chin out at the cake.

"What? I asked the shop if they could make it and they did!"

Allura cleared her throat nervously as the other customers in the place looked varying shades of amused to disgusted at their table. "Don't you have to be of a legal age to...procure such a cake on this planet?"

Pidge shrugged her shoulders, "Not if you have a fake ID", she looked quite smug about her investment. A tres leche cake—Pidge had assured Lance it was his favorite cake flavor—covered in purple frosting and shaped into the form of a penis. White frosting decorated the tip to make it seem like the cake was in the midst of ejaculating. It had white frosting pubes for the balls. The only person at their table who even seemed somewhat intrigued was Lotor himself.

Lance called a waiter over and had to beg them to get him a bottle of rum as they glanced curiously at the cake on the table. There was the sound of a chair scraping causing Lance to turn his head at the sound of Pidge whispering, "Oh my god!" Eyes widening as he found Lotor bent down on one knee on the floor, a soft, velvet-covered box resting in his hand.

"I read up some Earth custom's about this—"

"—Lotor...what are you doing?"

"Lance—" Lotor popped the velvet box open, revealing the blue orb that Lance had seen so long ago; the one that looked like it had a mini galaxy in it that had belonged to Honerva. Lotor had somehow managed to shrink it down to fit on the end of a silver chain.

Lance gasped, his hands flying to cover his mouth. "Is that—?"

"It was my mother's, but now I'm giving it to you. I will admit that this isn't a ring, but Lance, if you will have me, will you be by my side forever?"

Nodding his head furiously, Lance reached out to press his hands on the side of Lotor's face, pulling him into a kiss as his friends and customers alike furiously clapped and cheered.

After that day, Lance refused to take the necklace off. Not even when he went to sleep. The only time he took it off was when he took a shower, even though Lotor had sworn up and down that he made sure the necklace was waterproof, Lance refused to take the chance.

They quickly planned the wedding to take place in the spring of next year. Lance's mother had screamed with glee on the phone when Lance had told her the good news. He had to drag Lotor over to the phone so that his mother could congratulate him on deciding to share such a huge part of his life with Lance and the fact that Lotor was officially going to become her son in law despite the fact that she had been bugging Lance do "make an honest man out of him" the moment he had turned 20.

The wedding came—a beach one of course—Lance and Lotor dressed in matching white suits with blue roses pinned to their suits. Lance's hair was slicked back, he was smiling through the tears that threatened to spill down his face as his mother and father walked him down the aisle.

The wedding came and went with much fanfare. There was food galore, and so much dancing that Lance ended up collapsing into a chair to give his poor feet a rest. He never saw Lotor laugh as much as he did that night and he prayed to ever saint in heaven that he never wanted that moment to end.

* * *

"It feels so weird," Lance sighed from his position on the bed.

"What does?" Lotor cocked a brow as he walked out of the bathroom, the balcony window was open, letting in a nice breeze that came from outside and cooled down the room. He glanced out at the massive royal garden that had made designs for before the construction of the castle had even taken place. He walked towards the bed, crawling onto it until his body was hovering above Lance's own.

Tossing his datapad to the side of the bed, Lance reached up to drape his arms around Lotor's neck. "Living on another planet, so far away from my family and friends."

Pouting, Lotor turned his head to kiss at Lance's wrist. "It's only an hour of travel with Blue. Or thirty seconds if you take the new wormhole that was built."

"I know. I know." Lance pouted. "It's just weird? I've spent 30 years living on Earth and now…I'm not."

Lotor sighed. "Okay, what's really going on?" He dropped down onto the bed beside Lance, a hand pressed against the Paladin's stomach as he propped his head onto his open palm.

Mouth flattening out into a line, Lance pursed his lips. "I don't know. I feel like...everyone's lives are changing so quickly! Keith and Shiro just adopted a kid. Hunk and Shay are already having their second one. Allura's getting married. And Pidge! Pidge is dating!"

Lotor's eyes widened in shock. "Wow! I thought Pidge was planning on dating her work forever." Lance slapped him in the arm. With a chuckle, Lance couldn't help but point out, "Life changes. It always does."

"I know," Lance sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. "I just...I don't know what to do with mine next?"

Reaching out, Lotor grasped Lance's finger in his own and kissed each fingertip slowly. "Well, what do you want? You are married to an emperor so I can get you whatever your heart desires for. Even if it is cheese fries."

Laughter bubbled out of Lance. "I'll hold you on that offer next time." He paused, his lips twisting together as he seemed to be turning over the ideas churning in his mind. "I think I want to have your kids."

Eyes widening in shock, Lotor shot up in bed just as Lance quickly backtracked the idea. "I know it's not possible. Like not biologically. I'm super okay with adopting if push comes to shove. Hell, I don't even know if you want kids—" Lance began to ramble, but stopped when Lotor brought a single finger against his lips.

"Lance, I _want_ kids." Lance blinked. "I'm scared that I'll end up like my father, but I want to have kids with you. I want to raise them with you and watch them grow up to be curious little people. I want to raise them until their rebelling at us and slamming doors because we refuse to have them sneak out late at night. I want to be there when they go to school, make friends with all of our friends' kids, fall in love, get hurt—"

"Okay," Lance laughed, "what are you saying, exactly?"

Leaning forward, Lotor kissed his lips. " _I want to have kids with you_. And only you."

A smile tugged at Lance's lips as he pressed his forehead against Lotor's own. "How would we—is it even possible?"

"Yes," Lotor hissed. "Galra made breakthroughs hundreds of years ago when same-sex couples became accepted. It's a machine that takes the raw genetic DNA of the parents and combines it together to produce a new organism. There are even new machines that allow couples to select the sex of their offspring...that is if you wish to go that route."

Lance shook his head. "I want it to be a surprise. How long would it take?"

"The same gestational period as a normal human pregnancy."

Lance couldn't help but nervously laughed as he stared at Lotor. "We're going to have a kid."

"We're going to have a kid."

Nine months later, they were staring down at the beautiful bundle of joy they had in their arms. Lance lifted his head to stare at Lotor. "She looks like me."

A smile stretched across his own face. "She does."

Three years later they decided to have another child. That time it was a boy.

* * *

"Dad!" Lotor noticed a boy standing at the bottom of a hill as he approached with his daughter. He had Lotor's complexion and eye color but had Lance's dark hair color. He laughed childishly as he raced toward his father and wrapped his arms around his waist. He was slightly shorter than his sister, but Lotor swore the kid was growing rapidly every day.

"Hold my hand." Lotor held out his other free hand, his son taking it as the three of them walked up the hill to where Lance waited. It was a hill that overlooked the beach, the warm sea breeze rustling through the trees as they drew close to where Lance was.

"Papa!" Their son shouted, untangling his hand from Lotor's as their daughter did the same. The two of them swarming Lance as they prattled off and told Lance about their day, what new friends they had made, the recent trip Lotor had taken them on to Neo Altea. They talked about Aunty Allura letting them shoot blasters much to Lotor's dismay. But Allura had assured him she had set them to the lowest setting possible so that the energy admitted from them would do nothing but cause their opponents to cry out at the sensation of being tickled.

Lotor stared out at the beach. It wasn't yet open to the public but it would be soon. The sun was slowly starting to set, casting golden and pink hues over the water. "This never gets old, does it Lance?" Lotor whispered as he ordered his family to come. It was time for them to go home.

His children flocked to his side, their hands entwining with his once more as they walked down the hill.

Behind him, a small tombstone was surrounded by flowers of various hues and shades. The tombstone wasn't flashy or ornate; it was the way the hero resting beneath it had wanted it to be. Instead, it had the date of birth and death marked upon it of the person who was buried beneath it. Above it a single name and epitaph that described who rested in the grave:

 _Lance_

 _Hero. Husband. Father._

 _May he rest among the stars._

A breeze rustled through the trees and for a second Lotor stopped. His daughter staring up at him with a curious expression on her face as tears dripped from her father's eyes.

If anyone else had been on that hill and listened closely, they would have heard the whisper of a single word: _Lotor_.

"Nothing, my little seastar," Lotor assured his daughter as he ruffled his fingers through her hair, earning him an annoyed teenage huff as she resumed walking down the hill. Her brother sleeping his hand from his father's grasp to chase after her.

Lotor turned around to stare at the tombstone. Pressing his fingers against his lips, he pulled them away in a loving gesture. "I'll always love you." He turned and began to resume walking down the hill. Vowing to be back when the beach opened so he and Lance could bask in the moment together.

* * *

 **A/N: A little explanation for what happened in the other character's lives that I didn't mention as well as why I chose Lance's grave to be in such an isolated space:**

Honestly when I wrote the scene with the group photo I accidentally left the General's out so I had to hurriedly edit them in. I like to think that Acxa's just so used to being on her own, that she doesn't really give a damn about romance or falling in love so she just kind of does her own thing and happily serves as an aunt to Lotor and Lance's kids. Same thing with Coran, he's kind of old (by Altean standards) so I think he's just so used to having spent a portion of his life serving as an uncle figure to Allura and then as a father figure to her that she sort of treats him like that. (He did walk her down the aisle though when she got married). Until he became the grandfather figure for Allura and the Voltron gangs own kids that they eventually have and I like to imagine that Coran broke down the first time he heard even one of the kids call him "grandpa Coran." So he spent the rest of his life spoiling all of the kids to death and telling them bedtime stories about the exploits of Voltron much to the chagrin of the people who had lived it.

I like to think that Allura ends up marrying an Altean scholar who sorts of treats her for her? And not treat her like the royalty that she is and that's something she appreciated. When it came to Lance's kids lifespan I feel that when he learned he wouldn't be around forever to see them grow because they're so unpredictable already (I mean they're like 1/4 Altean, 1/4 Galra, and 1/2 human) that he thought he'd be prepared to hear the news, especially since he and Lotor had spent months talking it over because they decided to actually take the plunge and have kids. But he wasn't really prepared when it happened and he became super depressed until he had to settle on the fact that Lotor, Allura, and others would be there to look after his kids when he passed.

Tbh I tossed around the idea of the Paladin's having massive graves that commemorated who they were, but realized it just wouldn't be them? Like they lived so much of their life in public scrutiny and praise that when it came to their deaths they'd all prefer to just have their graves be a place without any fanfare. Like they'd want their graves to be simple places where only their friends and family knew the location of instead of a public spectacle that the whole universe could visit, snap pictures of, and sort of treat as a tourist hot spot.


End file.
